THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 
AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


VAN  LENNEP  —  CAMERON 
COLLECTION 


FLOWERS 


OF 

ANCIENT  HISTORY; 

COMPREHENDING, 

ON  A  NEW  PLAN, 

♦ 

THE  MOST  REMARKABLE  AND  INTERESTING  EVENTS,  AS 
WELL  AS  CHARACTERS,  OF  ANTIQUITY. 

DESIGNED  FOR  THE 

IMPROVEMENT  AND  ENTERTAINMENT 

OF 

YOUTH. 

BY  THE  REV.  JOHN  ADAMS,  A.M. 

<•*  > 

Omnc  tulit  punctum  qui  miscuit  utile  dulci....Hofe. 

♦ 

BALTIMORE: 

PRINTED  FOR  THE  BOOKSELLERS, 

By  Pomeroy  &  Toy. 

i8ir. 


€HAP.  PAGE, 


1.  Of  the  Creation,  the  Deluge,  and  the  sons  of 

Noah,  -  -  -  -  13 

2.  Of  Nimrod,  Ashur,  and  Abraham,  -  14 

3.  Of  Nineveh  and  Babylon,  -  -  15 

4.  Of  the  Walls  of  Babylon,  -  -  16 

5.  Of  the  Quays  and  Bridges,  -  -  18 

6.  Of  the  Palaces  and  Hanging  Gardens,  19 

7.  Of  the  Temple  of  Belus,  -  -»  21 

8.  Semiramis’  Indian  Expedition,  -  -  23 

9.  Of  Egypt,  and  the  Nile,  25 

10.  Of  the  ancient  method  of  conveying  the  Wa¬ 

ter  through  the  country,  with  an  account 
of  the  Lake  of  Maeris,  -  -  26 

11.  Of  the  Manners  of  the  Egyptians,  -  28 

12.  Of  their  Trial  of  the  Dead,  —  -  29 

13.  Of  the  Egyptian  Mummies,  30 

14.  Of  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt,  -  31 

15.  Of  the  Progress  of  Writing,  by  pictures,  hi¬ 

eroglyphics,  or  symbols,  -  -  32 

16.  Ot  the  Trojans,  35 

17.  Of  the  Seduction  of  Helen  by  Paris,  -  37 

18.  Of  the  Expedition  against  Troy,  -  38 


IV  CONTENTS. 

*0>  ■/  »  % 

CHAP.  PAGE. 

V~  %  ' 

19.  Of  the  Siege  of  Trdy,  -  -  r  39 

20.  Of  the  Wooden  HofSe,  -  -  ,  41 

21.  Of  the  Consequences  of  the  Trojan  War,  42 

22.  Of  Homer,  -  -  -  -  43 

23. -  Of  Thales,  Heraclitus,  Democritus,  and  Si¬ 

monides,  -  -  -  45 

24.  Of  the  Republic  of  Sparta,  -  -  47 

25.  Laws  of  Lycurgus  respecting  Property, pub¬ 

lic  Tables,  and  superficial  Arts,  -  50 

26.  Laws  respecting  Money  and  Commerce,  52 

27.  Of  the  Education  of  the  Spartan  Youth,  53 

28.  Of  Lycurgus’  Scheme  for  perpetuating  his 

Laws,  and  of  his  Death,  -  -  55 

29.  Of  Cyrus  the  Great,  57 

30.  Babylon  taken  by  Cyrus,  in  the  year  before 

Christ  538,  59 

31.  Of  the  miraculous  circumstances  which  atten¬ 

ded  the  licentious  festival  of  Belshazzar,  61 

32.  Cyrus’  edict  for  the  return  of  the  Jews,  63 

33.  Of  the  Battle  of  Marathon,  -  64 

34.  Of  the  injustice  of  the  xYthenians  to  Milti- 

ades,  67 

35.  Of  the  Invasion  of  Greece  by  Xerxes,  -  69 

36.  Of  Themistocles,  and  the  Battle  of  Thermo¬ 

pylae,  -  -  -  *  -  70 

37.  Of  the  Battles  of  Salamis,  Platea,  and  My- 

cale,  and  the  final  expulsion  of  the  Per¬ 
sians  from  Greece,  -  73 

38.  Of  the  Battle  of  Cheronee,  by  which  Philip  of 

Macedon  made  himself  master  of  Greece,  76 


CONTENTS, 


V 


CHAT.  '  -  PAGE. 


39.  Of  Demosthenes’  influence  over  the  Atheni¬ 

ans,  79 

40.  Anecdotes  of  King  Philip,  -  83 

41.  Character  of  Philip,  -  85 

42.  Of  Alexander  the  Great,  -  87 

43.  Alexander  defeats  the  Barbarians,  and  de¬ 

stroys  Thebes,  90 

44.  Alexander  causes  himself  to  be  declared 

Generalissimo  of  the  Greeks  against  the 
Persians,  -  -  -  92 

45.  Alexander  defeats  the  Persians  at  the  Gra- 

nicus,  94 

46.  Alexander  defeats  Darius  at  the  Issus,  -  97 

47.  Of  Alexander’s  treatment  to  Darius’ family,  104 

48.  A  Sidonian  Anecdote,  -  *  -106 

49.  Of  the  siege  and  taking  of  Tyre,  -  108 

50.  Alexander  visits  Jerusalem,  and  afterwards 

enters  Egypt,  -  ,  -  109 

51.  Of  Darius’  olfers  to  Alex^hder,  the  Battle  of 

Arbela,  and  the  death  of  Darius,  -  110 

52.  Of  Alexander’s  degeneracy  and  death,  11$ 

53.  Character  of  Alexander,  -  116 

54.  Of  the  Olympic  Games,  -  -  118 

55.  Of  Running,  and  Horse-races,  -  -  120 

56.  Of  Chariot-races,  -  122 

57.  Of  the  Gymnastic  Exercises,  -  -  124 

58.  Of  the  Discus,  -  125 

59.  Of  the  Poetical  and  Historical  Compositions 

read  at  the  Olympic  Games,  -  126 

60.  Of  Milo  the  Crotonian,  -  -  127 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAP.  PAGE. 

61.  Of  Theatrical  Representations,  -  -  128 

62.  Of  Music  and  Dancing,  -  *  1£9 

63.  Of  Pindar,  -  -  -  -  130 

64.  Of  iEschylus,  Sophocles,  Euripides  and  A- 

ristophanes,  -  131 

65.  Of  Herodotus  and  Thucydides,  -  -  133 

66.  Of  Xenophon,  ...  134 

67.  Of  Plutarch,  -  136 

68.  Of  Socrates,  -  ~  H. 

69.  Of  Plato,  -  -  -  •  •  -  143 

70.  Of  Aristotle,  -  144 

71.  Of  Demosthenes,  -  146 

72.  Of  Antisthenes  and  Diogenes,  -  149 

73.  Of  Zeno,  and  the  Stoics,  -  -  150 

74.  Of  Pythagoras,  -  -  -  152 

75.  Of  Archimedes,  -  -  -  154 

76.  Of  iEneas,  -  156 

77.  Of  Romulus,  -  157 

78.  Of  the  successors  of  Romulus,  -  159 

79.  Of  the  Consular  Government,  -  -  160 

80.  Of  Carthage  and  the  first  Punic  War,  161 

81.  Of  Regulus,  -  163 

82.  Of  Hannibal,  and  the  second  Punic  War,  165 

83.  Of  the  fate  of  Scipio  and  Hannibal,  -  169 

84.  Of  the  third  Punic  War,  and  the  destruc¬ 

tion  of  Carthage,  -  -  -  172 

85.  Of  the  success  of  the  Roman  arms,  and  of 

Mithridates,  r  -  -  176 

86.  Of  Catiline’s  Conspiracy,  -  -  178 

87.  Of  Julius  Caesar,  and  the  first  Grand  Tri¬ 

umvirate,  -  183 


CONTENTS#  Vll 

CHAP-  PAGE. 

88.  Of  the  Battle  of  Pharsalia,  and  the  death  of 

Poinpey,  -  -  -  ‘188 

89.  Of  Ceesar’s  expedition  into  Egypt,  and  his 

attachment  to  Cleopatra,  -  192 

90.  Of  the  death  of  Cato,.  -  -  198 

91.  Of  Csesar’s  success,  his  triumphs,  and  his 

death,  -  -  -  196 

92.  Of  Antony’s  Oration,  and  its  effects,  #  199 

93.  Of  the  second  Triumvirate,  -  -  203 

94.  Of  Cicero’s  death,  -  204 

95.  Of  the  death  of  Brutus  and  Cassius,  205 

96.  Of  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  -  -  206 

97.  Of  the  Battle  of  Actium,  and  the  death  of 

Antony,  -  -  -  211 

98.  Of  the  death  of  Cleopatra,  -  -  217 

99.  Octavius  Caesar  assumes  the  title  of  Augus¬ 

tus  the  Emperor,  -  221 

100.  Of  the  Arts  and  Sciences,  and  learned  men 

'  among  the  Romans,  -  -  223 

101.  Of  the  manners  and  principal  occupations 

of  the  ancient  Romans,  -  -  225 

102.  Of  the  Roman  meals,  and  their  behavior  at 

table,  -  227 

103.  Of  the  head-dresses  of  the  Roman  ladies,  229 

104.  Of  the  favorite  colors  of  Cloths,  -  231 

105.  Of  the  Roman  Calendar,  -  *  232 

106.  Of  the  invention  of  Water  Clocks,  -  ib> 

107.  Of  the  Roman  Money,  -  -  234 

108.  Of  the  eloquence  and  the  origin  of  the  pro¬ 

fession  of  Advocates  among  the  Romans,  235 


CONTENTS* 


•  *  « 

VIII 

CHAP.  -  PAGK, 

109.  Of  Pearls,  Diamonds,  Rings,  and  Seals,  238 

110.  Of  the  Houses  of  the  Romans,  -  240 

111.  Of  the  Roman  Baths,  ...  242 

112.  Of  the  Couches,  or  Beds,  used  at  the  Ro¬ 

man  tables,  -  -  -  246 

113.  Of  the  Roman  Entertainments,  -  -  24£> 

114.  Of  Games  of  Chance,  and  Lotteries,  250 

115.  Of  the  introduction  of  the  common  use  of 

wine  among  the  Romans,  -  -  251 

116.  Of  the  Supper  given  to  Cicero  and  Pompey 

by  Lucullus?  ...  353 

117.  Of  Marriage,  and  the  privileges  of  married 

persons,  among  the  Romans,  -  -  254 

118.  Comparison  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes,  260 

119.  Comparison  ol  Virgil  and  Homer,  268 

_20.  Of  Horace,  and  his  merit  as  a  Lyric  Poet,  271 

121.  Comparison  between  Horace  arid  Juvenal,  278 

1 22.  Of  Pastoral  Poetry,  and  a  comparison  be¬ 

tween  Virgil  and  Theocritus,  -  281 

123.  Of  Seneca,  -  285 


FLOWERS 


OF 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 

*• 

'  -  '  7  \  f 

CHAP.  I. 

Of  the  Creation ,  the  Deluge ,  and  the  Sons  of 

Noah. 

.‘I 

THE  great  event  of  the  creation  of  the 
world,  before  which  there  was  neither  matter 
nor  form  of  any  thing,  is  placed,  according  to 
the  best  chronoiogers,  about  4004  years  before 
Christ. 

It  appears  in  general,  from  the  first  chapters 
of  Genesis,  that  the  world  before  the  flood,  was 
exceedingly  populous;  that  mankind  had  made 
considerable  improvements  in  the  arts,  and 
were  becoming  extremely  vicious,  both  in  their 
sentiments  and  manners.  Their  wickedness 
gave  occasion  to  a  memorable  catastrophe,  by 
which  the  whole  human  race,  except  Noah  and 
his  family,  were  swept  from  off  the  face  of  the 
earth.  The  deluge  took  place  in  the  year  of 
the  world  1656,  and  produced  a  very  considera¬ 
ble  change  on  the  soil  and  atmosphere  of  this 
globe,  and  gave  them  a  form  less  friendly  to 
B 


14 


BLOWERS  OE 


the  frame  anil  texture  of  the  human  body. 
Hence  the  abridgment  of  the  life  of  man,  and 
the  formidable  train  of  diseases  which  have  ever 
since  made  such  havoc  in  the  world. 

A  curious  part  of  history  follows  that  of  the 
deluge;  the  re-peopling  the  world,  and  the.  rai¬ 
sing  of  a  new  generation  from  the  ruins  of  the 
former.  The  memory  of  the  three  sons  of  No- 
ah,  the  first  founders  of  nations,  was  long  pre¬ 
served  among  their  several  descendants.  Japhet 
continued  famous  among  the  western  nations, 
under  the  celebrated  name  of  Japetus.  The  He¬ 
brews  paid  an  equal  veneration  to  Shem,  who 
was  the  founder  of  their  race;  and  among  the 
Egyptians  Ham  was  long  revered  as  a  divinity, 
under  the  name  of  Jupiter  Mammon. 

CHAP.  II. 

Of  Nimrod,  Jlssur ,  and  Mraham. 

IT  appears  that  It  unting  wes  the  principal 
occupation  for  some  centuries  after  the  deluge. 
The  world  teemed  with  wild  beasts;  and  the 
great  heroism  of  those  times  consisted  in  des¬ 
troying  them.  Hence  Nimrod  acquired  immor¬ 
tal  renown;  and  by  the  admiration  which  his 
courage  and  dexterity  universally  excited,  was 
enabled  to  acquire  an  authority  over  his  fellow- 
creatures,  and  to  found  at  Babylon,  the  first 
monarchy,  whose  origin  is  particularly  men¬ 
tioned  in  history,  in  the  year  of  the  world  2247. 

Not  long  after,  the  foundation  of  Nineveh 


SBC 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


15 


was  laid  by  Assur.  In  Egypt,  t lie  four  gov¬ 
ernments  of  Thehis,  Theri,  Memphis,  and  Ta- 
nis,  began  to  assume  some  appearance  of  form 
and  regularity.  That  these  events  should  have 
happened  so  soon  after  the  deluge,  whatever 
surprise  it  may  have  occasioned  to  the  learn¬ 
ed,  some  centuries  ago,  need  not,  in  the  smal¬ 
lest  degree,  excite  the  wonder  of  the  present 
age.  We  have  seen  from  many  instances,  the 
powerful  effects  of  the  principles  of  popula¬ 
tion.  The  kingdoms  of  Mexico  and  Peru 
were  incomparably  more  extensive  than  those 
of  Babylon,  Nineveh,  or  Egypt,  during  this 
early  age;  and  yet  these  kingdoms  are  not  sup¬ 
posed  to  have  existed  four  centuries  before  the 
discovery  of  America  by  Columbus. 

As  mankind  continued  to  multiply  on  the 
earth,  and  separate  from  each  other,  the  tra¬ 
dition  concerning  the  true  God  was  obliterated 
or  obscured.  This  occasioned  the  calling  of 
Abraham  to  he  the  father  of  a  chosen  people, 
Anno  Mundi  1921.  From  this  period  the  his- 
lory  of  ancient  nations  begins  a  little  to  expand 
itself;  and  we  learn  particulars  of  refry  consi¬ 
derable  importance. 

CHAP.  III. 

Of  Nineveh  and  fiabylott. 

NINES  being  possessed  with  a  rage  of 
conquest,  subdued  a  great  number  of  nations 
all  the  way  from  Egypt  to  India;  but  s  us  pen- 


16 


FLOWERS  OF. 


ded  his  warlike  enterprizes  to  enlarge  the  city 
of  Nineveh,  which  had  been  founded  by  his  fa¬ 
ther.  Nineveh  was  quickly  built  with  walls 
an  hundred  feet  high,  having  fifteen  hundred 
towers  two  hundred  feet  in  height,  to  serve 
equally  for  its  ornament  and  defence.  The 
circumference  of  the  whole  city  was  four  hun¬ 
dred  and  eighty  stadia,  or  sixty  miles. 

This  work  being  completed,  Ninus  resumed 
his  arms  at  the  head  of  several  hundred  thou¬ 
sand  fighting  men;  and  Semiramis,  who  was 
the  wife  of  one  of  his  officers,  distinguished 
herself  by  her  heroic  exploits.  The  king  mar¬ 
ried  her  and  left  her  his  crown;  and  this  am¬ 
bitious  princess  being  desirous,  in  her  turn,  to 
render  her  name  immortal,  in  a  very  few  years 
built  the  city  of  Babylon,  to  such  an  amazing 
extent  that  it  far  exceeded  Nineveh,  its  walls 
being  of  a  sufficient  thickness  to  allow  six  cha¬ 
riots  to  go  abreast. 

The  quays,  the  bridge  over  the  Euphrates, 
the  hanging  gardens,  the  prodigies  of  sculp¬ 
ture  and  architecture,  the  temple  of  Bolus, 
which  had  in  it  a  golden  statue  forty  feet  high, 
though  they  were  not  all  works  of  Semiramis, 
yet  they  were  much  improved  and  embellished 
by  her. 

CHAP.  IV. 

Of  the  Walls  of  Babylon . 

THESE  walls  were  built  of  large  brick, 
cemented  together  with  bitumen,  a  glutinous 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


17 


slime  arising  cut  of  the  earth  of  that  country  * 
which  binds  in  buildings  much  stronger  and 
firmer  than  lime,  and  soon  grows  much  harder 
than#the  bricks  or  stones  which  it  cements  to¬ 
gether.  They  were  of  a  square  form,  each 
side  of  which  was  fifteen  miles.  Their  breadth 
was  eighty-seven  feet,  and  their  height  three 
hundred  and  fifty. 

The  walls  were  surrounded  on  the  outside 
with  a  vast  ditch,  full  of  water,  and  lined  with 
bricks  on  both  sides.  The  earth  that  was 
dug  out  of  it,  made  the  bricks  wherewith  the 
walls  were  built;  and  therefore  from  the  vast 
height  and  breadth  of  the  walls  may  be  in¬ 
ferred  the  greatness  of  the  ditch. 

On  every  side  of  this  great  square  were 
twenty  five  gates,  that  is,  an  hundred  in  alL 
These  gates  were  made  of  solid  brass.  Hence 
it  is,  that  when  the  Supreme  Being  promised 
to  Cyrus  the  conquest  of  Babylon,  he  tells 
him,  “That  he  wrou!d  break  in  pieces  before 
him  (he  gates  of  brass.” 

Between  every  two  of  the  gates  were  three 
towers,  and  four  more  at  the  four  corners  of 
this  great  square;  and  three  between  each  of 
these  corners  and  the  next  gate  on  either  side. 
Every  one  of  these  towers  was  ten  feet  higher 
than  the  walls.  But  this  is  to  be  understood 
only  of  those  parts  of  the  wall  where  there 
was  need  of  towers. 

From  these  twenty-five  gates  on  each  side  of 
this  great  square,  went  twenty-five  streets,  in 
straight  lines  to  the  gates,  which  were  directly 

!)  %. 


18 


FLOWERS  OF 


opposite  to  them  on  the  other  side;  so  that  the 
number  of  streets  were  fifty,  each  fifteen  miles 
long,  whereof  twenty-five  went  one  way,  and 
twenty-live  the  other,  crossing  each  other  at 
right  angles.  And  besides  these,  there  were 
four  half  streets,  which  had  houses  only  on 
one  side,  and  the  wall  on  the  other.  These 
went  round  the  four  sides  of  the  city  next  the 
walls,  and  were  each  of  them  two  hundred  feet 
broad.  The  rest  were  about  one  hundred  and 
and  fifty.  By  these  streets  thus  crossing  each 
other,  the  \vhole  city  was  divided  into  six  hun¬ 
dred  and  seventy-six  squares,  each  of  them 
four  furlongs  and  an  half  on  every  side,  that 
two  miles  and  a  quarter  in  circumference. 

Round  these  squares  on  every  side  towards 
the  streets,  stood  the  houses,  which  were  not 
contigious,  but  had  void  spaces  between  them. 
They  were-  build  three  or  four  stories  high, 
and  beautified  with  all  manner  of  ornament 
towards  the  streets.  The  space  within,  in  the 
middle  of  each  square,  was  employed  for  yards, 
gardens,  and  other  such  uses;  so  that  Baby¬ 
lon  was  greater  in  appearance  than  reality, 
near  one  half  of  the  city  being  taken  up  in 
gardens  and  other  cultivated  lands. 

x* 

CHAP.  y. 

Of  the  Quays  and  Bridges. 

A  BRANCH  of  the  river  Euphrates  ran 
quite  across  the  city,  from  the  north  to  the 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


19 


south  side.  On  each  sitj'i  of  the  river  was  a 
quay,  and  a  high  wall  built  of  bricks  and  bitu¬ 
men,  of  the  same  thickness  as  the  walls  that 
surrounded  the  city. 

In  these  walls  opposite  to  every  street  that 
led  to  the  river,  were  gates  of  brass,  and  from 
them  descents  by  steps  to  the  river  for  the  leon- 
veniency  of  the  inhabitants,  who  used  to  pass 
over  from  one  side  to  the  other  in  boats,  hav¬ 
ing  no  other  way  of  crossing  the  river,  before 
the  building  of  the  bridge.  The  brazen  gates 
were  always  open  in  the  day  time,  and  shut  in 
the  night. 

The  bridge  was  not  inferior  to  any  of  the 
other  buildings,  either  in  beauty  or  magnifi¬ 
cence.  It  was  a  furlong  in  length,  and  thirty 
feet  in  breadth,  built  with  wonderful  art  to  sup¬ 
ply  the  defect  of  a  foundation,  in  the  bottom 
of  the  river,  which  was  all  sandy. 

The  arches  were  made  of  huge  stones,  fas¬ 
tened  together  with  chains  of  iron,  and  melted 
lead. 

CHAP.  VI. 

Of  the  Palaces  and  Hanging  Gardens.- 

AT  the  two  ends  of  the  bridge  were  two 
palaces,  which  had  communication  with  each 
other  by  a  vault,  built  under  the  channel  of  the 
river.  The  old  palace  which  stood  on  the  east 
side  of  the  river,  was  three  miles  and  three 
quarters  in  compass.  The  new  palace  which 


20 


FLOWERS  OF 


stood  or  the  west  side  of  the  river  opposite  to 
the  other,  was  seven  miles  and  a  half*  in  coin- 
pass.  It  was  surrounded  with  three  walls,  one 
within  another;  with  considerable  spaces  be¬ 
tween  them.  These  walls,  as  well  as  those  of 
the  other  palace,  were  embellished  with  an  in¬ 
finite  variety  of  sculptures,  representing  all 
kinds  of  animals  to  the  life.  Among  the  rest 
was  a  curious  hunting  piece,  in  which  Semira- 
tnis,  on  horseback,  was  throwing  her  javelin 
at  a  leopard,  and  her  husband  Ninus  piercing 
a  lion. 

In  this  last,  or  new  palace,  were  the  hanging 
gardens,  so  celebrated  among  the  Greeks. — - 
They  contained  a  square  of*  four  hundred  feet 
on  every  side,  and  were  carried  up  aloft  into 
the  air,  in  the  manner  of  several  large  terraces, 
one  above  another,  till  the  height  equalled  that 
of  the  walls  of  the  city. 

The  ascent  wras  from  terrace  to  terrace,  i>y 
stairs  ten  feet  wide.  The  whole  pile  was  sup¬ 
ported  by  vast  arches,  raised  upon  other  arches, 
one  above  another  and  strengthened  by  a  wall 
twenty-two  feet  thick. 

On  the  top  of  (he  arches,  were  first  laid 
large  flat  stones  sixteen  feet  long,  and  four  feet 
broad.  Over  these  were  a  layer  of  earth 
mixed  with  a  great  quantity  of  bitumen,  upon 
which  were  two  rows  of  bricks,  closely  ce¬ 
mented  together  with  plaister. 

The  whole  was  covered  with  thick  sheets  of 
lead,  upon  which  lay  the  mould  or  earth  of  the 
garden.  And  all  this  was  contrived  to  keep 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


21 


the  moisture  of  the  mould  from  running 
through  the  arches.  This  mould  was  so  deep 
that  the  greatest  trees  might  take  root  in  it; 
and  with  such  the  terraces  were  covered,  as 
well  as  with  all  other  plants  and  flowers,  that 
are  proper  for  a  garden  of  pleasure. 

In  the  upper  terrace  there  was  an  engine,  or 
kind  of  a  pump,  by  which  water  was  draw  n  up 
out  of  the  river;  and  from  thence  the  whole 
garden  was  watered.  In  the  spaces  between 
the  several  arches,  upon  which  this  whole 
structure  rested,  were  large  and  magnificent 
apartments,  that  were  very  light,  and  had  the 
advantage  of  a  beautiful  prospect. 

CHAP.  VII. 

*. 

Of  the  Temple  of  Belus . 

ANOTHER  of  the  great  works  of  Baby¬ 
lon  was  the  temple  of  Belus,  which  stood  near 
the  old  palace. 

It  was  most  remarkable  for  a  prodigious 
tower  which  stood  in  the  middle  of  it.  At  the 
foundation,  it  was  a  square  of  a  furlong  on 
each  side;  and,  according  to  Strabo,  it  was  a 
a  furlong  in  height.  It  consisted  of  eight  tow¬ 
ers,  built  one  above  the  other;  and  because  it 
decreased  gradually  to  the  top,  Strabo  calls  the 
whole  a  pyramid. 

It  is  not  only  asserted,  but  proved,  that  this 
tower  much  exceeded  the  greatest  of  the  pyra¬ 
mids  of  Egypt  in  height.  Therefore  we  have 
very  good  reason  to  believe,  that  it  was  the 


22 


FLOWERS  OF 


very  same  tower  which  was  built  there  at  the 
confusion  of  languages;  and  the  rather,  be¬ 
cause  it  is  attested  by  several  profane  authors, 
that  this  tower  was  all  built  of  bricks  and  bi¬ 
tumen,  as  the  Scriptures  tell  us  the  tower  of 
Babel  was. 

The  ascent  to  the  top  was  by  stairs  on  the 
outside  round  it:  that  is,  there  was  an  easy 
sloping  ascent  on  the  side  of  the  outer  wail, 
which  turning  by  very  slow  degrees,  in  a  spiral 
line,  eight  times  round  the  towers  from  the 
bottom  to  the  top,  had  the  same  appearance  us 
if  there  had  been  eight  towers,  placed  upon  one 
another.  In  these  different  stories  were  many 
large  rooms,  with  arched  roofs  supported  by 
pillars.  Over  the  whole,  on  the  top  of  the 
tower,  was  an  observatory,  by  the  benefit  oi» 
which,  the  Babylonians  became  more  expert  in 
astronomy  than  all  other  nations. 

But  the  chief  use  to  which  this  tower  was 
designed,  w  as  for  the  wowship  of  the  god  Bel  us, 
or  Baal,  as  also  that  of  several  other  deities; 
for  which  reason  there  w  as  a  multitude  of  cha¬ 
pels  in  the  different  parts  of  the  tower. 

The  riches  of  this  temple  in  statues,  tables, 
censers,  cups,  and  other  sacred  vessels,  all  of 
massy  gold,  were  immense.  Among  other  ima¬ 
ges,  there  was  one  forty  feet  high,  and  weighed 
a  thousand  talents. 

This  amazing  fabric  stood  till  the  time  of 
Xerxes:  but  he,  on  his  return  from  his  Grecian 
expedition,  entirely  demolished  it,  after  having 
first  plundered  it  of  all  its  riches.  Alexander 
on  his  return  to  Babylon  from  his  Indian  expe 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


or* 

ditiou,  intended  to  have  rebuilt  it:  and  with 
this  view*  employed  ten  thousand  men,  to  clear 
the  place  ot*  its  rubbish;  but  the  death  of 
Alexander,  about  two  months  after,  put  an 
end  to  the  undertaking. 

chap.  Yin. 

Scmir antis9  Indian  Expedition . 

THE  last  and  greatest  expedition  of  Se- 
miravnis  was  against  India.  On  this  occasion 
she  raised  an  innumerable  a  Pin  3  out  of  all  the 
provinces  of  her  empire,  and  appointed  Baetra 
for  the  rendezvous. 

As  the  strength  of  the  Indians  consisted 
chiefly  in  their  great  number  of  elephants,  tins 
artful  queen  had  a  multitude  of  camels  accou¬ 
tred  in  the  form  of  elephants,  in  hopes  of  de¬ 
ceiving  the  enemy.  It  is  said,  that  Perseus, 
long  after,  used  the  same  stratagem  against 
the  Romans.  But  neither  of  them  succeeded. 

The  Indian  king,  having  notice  of  her  ap¬ 
proach,  sent  ambassadors  to  ask  her  who  she 
was,  and  with  what  right,  having  never  recei¬ 
ved  any  injury  from  him,  she  came  out  of  wan- 
toness  to  attack  his  dominions;  adding,  that  Iser 
boldness  should  soon  meet  with  the  punishment 
it  deserved.  “Tell  your  master,”  replied  the 
queen,  “that  in  a  little  time,  I  myself  will  let 
him  know  who  1  am.” 

She  advanced  immediately  towards  the  river 
Indus,  from  which  the  country  takes  its  name; 
and  having  prepared  a  sufficient  number  of 


Si  FLOWERS  OF 

boats,  she  attempted  to  cross  it  with  her  army. 
Their'  passage  was  a  long  time  disputed,  but 
after  a  bloody  battle,  she  put  her  enemies  to 
flight.  Above  a  thousand  of  their  boats  were 
sunk,  and  about  an  hundred  thousand  of  their 
men  taken  prisoners. 

Encouraged  by  this  success,  she  advanced 
directly  into  the  country,  leaving  sixty  thou¬ 
sand  men  behind,  to  guard  their  bridge  of 
boats,  which  she  had  built  over  their  river. 
This  was  just  what  the  king  desired,  who  fled 
on  purpose  to  bring  her  to  an  engagement  in 
the  heart  of  his  country.  As  soon  as  he  thought 
her  far  enough  advanced,  he  faced  about,  and 
a  second  engagement  ensued,  more  bloody  than 
the  first.  The  counterfeit  elephants  could  not 
long  sustain  the  shock  of  the  true  ones.  These 
routed  her  army,  crushing  whatever  came  in 
their  way. 

Semiramis  did  all  that  could  be  done,  to  rally 
and  encourage  her  troops;  but  in  vain.  The 
king  perceiving  her  engaged  in  the  fight,  ad¬ 
vanced  towards  her  and  wounded  her.  The 
wound  however  did  not  prove  mortal.  The 
swiftness  of  her  horse  soon  carried  her  beyond 
the  reach  of  her  enemies. 

As  her  men  crowded  to  the  bridge,  to  repass 
the  riv/'r,  numbers  of  them  perished  by  the 
disorder  and  confusion  unavoidable  on  such  oc¬ 
casions.  When  those  that  could  save  them¬ 
selves  were  safely  over,  she  destroyed  the 
bridge,  and  by  that  means  stopped  the  enemy; 
and  the  king  likewise,  in  obedience  to  an  ora- 


AlfCIENT  HISTORY. 


cle,  had  given  orders  to  his  troops  not  to  pass 
the  river,  nor  pursue  Semiramis  any  farther. 

The  queen,  having  made  an  exchange  of 
prisoners,  returned  to  her  own  dominions,  with 
scarce  one  third  of  her  army,  which,  according 
to  Cresias,  consisted  of  three  hundred  thousand 
foot,  and  fifty  thousand  horse,  besides  the  ca¬ 
mels  and  chariots  armed  for  w  ar,  of  which  she 
had  a  verv  considerable  number. 

w 

m 

CHAP.  IX. 

Of  Egypt  and  the  Nile. 

EGYPT,  which  is  situated  between  the 
twenty-fourth  and  thirty-third  degrees  of  north 
latitude,  is  a  country  very  much  favored  by 
nature.  The  sky  is  serene,  the  soil  fertile,  the 
plants  and  ft  uits  agreeable  and  salutary.  But 
a  wonderful  degree  of  industry  .would  have 
been  necessary,  to  render  it  habitable  by  a  con¬ 
siderable  number  of  people. 

The  overflowing  of  the  Nile  procures  every 
advantage,  and  supplies  the  want  of  rain,  which 
never  falls  in  that  country.  This  river  has  its 
source  in  a  mountain  of  Abyssinia,  from  whence 
it  does  not  arrive  in  Egypt  till  it  has  been  pre- 
cipated  over  seven  cataracts,  with  a  noise  which 
is  heard  at  the  distance  of  a  number  of  leagues. 
It  begins  to  swell  in  the  month  of  May,  and  by 
a  gradual  increase,  which  is  almost  impercep¬ 
tible  at  first,  it  arrives  at  a  sufficient  height  to 

C 


FLOWERS  OF 


overflow  the  country,  and  remains  in  that  state 
from  the  month  of  June  till  October. 

The  ancients,  who  were  ignorant  of  the 
causes  of  the  inundation,  have  assigned  some 
fabulous  reasons,  which  will  always  be  the  case, 
when  people  substitute  conjectures  instead  of 
facts.  At  present  we  know,  that  it  rains  in 
Ethiopia  five  months  in  the  year,  from  April 
to  September,  which  is  the  secret  of  the  over¬ 
flowing  of  the  Nile.  And  the  precious  mud 
which  it  brings  along  with  it,  produces  the 
amazing  fertility  of  Egypt.  Thus  lands,  which 
are  naturally  dry  and  sandy,  become  the  best 
soil  in  the  world.  They  need  only  sow,  with¬ 
out  any  kind  of  culture,  to  reap,  in  a  very  short 
time,  all  the  natural  productions. 

Egypt,  during  the  summer,  appears  like  a 
sea,  with  cities,  villages,  and  thickets,  scatter¬ 
ed  over  it,  and  affording  a  most  wonderful  and 
singular  prospect.  In  the  winter,  it  becomes  a 
gladsome  plain,  covered  with  flocks,  herds  and 
husbandmen,  where  orange,  citron,  and  other 
fragrant  trees  are  seen,  whose  flowers  delight 
the  eye,  and  perfume  the  surrounding  air. 

CHAP.  X. 

Of  the  ancient  method  of  conveying  the  water 
through  the  country,  with  an  account  of  the 
Lake  of  Mceris. 

IN  order  to  multiply  so  beneficial  a  river. 
Egypt  was  crossed  by  an  incredible  number  of 
canals,  of  an  immense  length  and  breadth^ 


ANCIENT  HIS  1  ORY. 


The  Nile  not  only  carried  fruitfulness  every 
where  with  its  wholesome  waters,  united  cities 
to  one  another,  and  the  great  ocean  with  the 
Red  sea,  hut  kept  up  commerce  both  within 
and  without  the  kingdom,  and  fortified  it 
against  the  enemy;  so  that  it  was  both  the 
nourisher  and  defender  of  Egypt.  The  cham¬ 
paign  country  was  abandoned  to  it;  but  the  ci¬ 
ties,  raised  with  immense  labor  and  pains,  lift¬ 
ing  up  their  heads  like  so  many  islands  in  the 
midst  of  the  waters,  beheld  with  joy  all  the 
plain  overflowed,  and  at  the  same  time  made 
fruitful  by  the  Nile.  When  it  swelled  beyond 
measure,  great  lakes  dug  by  the  kings,  offered 
their  bosoms  to  the  spreading  waves.  They 
had  their  discharges  prepared;  large  sluices 
opened  or  shut  them,  as  necessity  required; 
the  waters  having  their  places  of  retreat,  staid 
upon  the  lands  no  longer  than  was  needful  to 
fertilize  them. 

Such  was  the  use  of  that  great  lake,  called 
the  lake  of  Maoris,  which  was  the  name  of  the 
king  who  had  caused  it  to  be  made.  It  is  as¬ 
tonishing  to  read,  what  nevertheless  is  true, 
that  its  circumference  was  about  an  hundred 
and  eighty  of  our  leagues. 

The  fishery  of  it  yielded  immense  sums  to 
the  king;  and  thus,  when  the  land  produced 
nothing,  they  drew  treasures  from  it,  by  cover¬ 
ing  it  with  water. 

Two  pyramids,  each  of  which  bore  upon  a 
throne  tw  o  colossal  statues,  one  of  Mseris,  and 
the  other  of  his  wife,  rose  three  hundred  feet 
above  the  middle  of  the  lake,  and  occupied  a 


28 


FLOWERS  OF 


like  space  under  the  waters.  Thus  they  shew¬ 
ed,  that  they  had  been  erected  before  the  pit 
was  tilled;  and  demonstrated,  that  a  lake  of 
that  extent  had  been  made  by  men’s  hands,  un¬ 
der  a  single  prince. 

CHAP.  XI. 

Of  the  Manners  of  the  Egyptians . 

THE  Egyptians  are  the  first,  from  whom 
we  have  learned  the  rules  of  government.  This 
grave  and  respectable  nation  first  understood 
the  true  end  of  policy,  which  is  to  render  life 
commodious,  and  the  people  happy.  The  tem¬ 
perature  of  the  country  being  always  even  and 
uniform,  made  their  judgments  solid  and 
steady. 

As  virtue  is  the  foundation  of  all  society,  so 
they  carefully  cultivated  it.  Their  chief  virtue 
was  gratitude.  The  honor  that  was  given  to 
them,  for  being  the  most  generous  and  grate¬ 
ful,  shews  they  were  likewise  the  most  socia¬ 
ble.  Good  offices  are  the  bond  both  of  public 
and  private  concord.  lie  that  acknowledges 
favors  loves  to  bestow  them;  and  in  banishing 
ingratitude,  the  pleasure  of  doing  good  re¬ 
mains  so  pure,  that  one  cannot  possibly  be  in¬ 
sensible  of  it. 

Their  laws  were  simple,  full  of  equity,  and 
proper  to  unite  citizens  to  one  another.  He, 
who  being  able  to  rescue  a  man  assaulted,  did 
not  do  it,  was  punished  w  ith  as  severe  a  death 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


29 


as  the  assassin  himself.  Thus  were  the  citi¬ 
zens  a  guard  to  each  other,  and  all  the  mei*~ 
hers  of  the  community  were  united  against 
evil  doers.  None  was  permitted  to  be  useless 
in  the  state,  the  law  assigned  to  each  his  pro¬ 
per  business,  which  was  perpetuated  from  fa¬ 
ther  to  son. 

The  priests  and  soldiers  had  their  particular 
marks  of  honor;  but  all  the  traders,  even  to 
the  least,  were  held  in  esteem;  and  it  was  ac¬ 
counted  a  criminal  matter  to  despise  and  treat 
with  contempt  those  citizens,  whose  labors, 
whatever  they  were,  contributed  to  the  public 
weal.  By  this  means  all  arts  were  brought  t<w 
great  perfection. 

CHAP.  XI r. 

Of  their  Trial  of  the  Lead. 

THERE  was  in  Eyypt  one  sort  of  trial  al¬ 
together  extraordinary,  which  nobody  escaped. 
It  is  a  consolation  in  dyings  to  leave  one’s 
name  in  esteem  among  men;  and  of  all  human 
blessings,  this  is  the  only  one  of  which  death 
"cannot  rob  us.  But  it  was  not  allowed  in 
Egypt  indiscriminately  to  praise  all  the  dead. 
This  honor  could  only  he  conferred  by  a  pub¬ 
lic  decree.  The  moment  a  man  died  he  was 
brought  into  judgment.  The  public  accuser 
was  heard.  If  he  proved  that  the  conduct  of 
the  deceased  had  been  bad,  his  memory  was 
condemned,  and  he  was  deprived  of  burial, 

o  % 


30 


FLOWERS  OF 


The  consequence  was,  that  the  people  admired 
the  power  of  the  laws,  which  extended  to  men 
even  after  death;  and  every  one,  struck  by  ex¬ 
ample,  feared  to  disgrace  his  memory  and  his 
friends. 

CIIAP.  XIII. 

Of  the  Egyptian  Mummies . 

TIIE  superstitious  desire  of  preserving 
their  bodies  after  death  was  one  of  the  strong¬ 
est  passions  of  the  Egyptians.  Accordingly, 
no  nation  has  ever  equalled  their  skill  in  em¬ 
balming.  It  is  said,  that  some  of  the  bodies 
are  perfect  and  distinct  at  this  day,  though  bu¬ 
ried  three  thousand  years  ago. 

The  mummy  pits,  which  contain  the  mum¬ 
mies  or  embalmed  bodies,  are  subterraneous 
vaults  of  a  prodigious  extent;  but  the  art  of 
preserving  the  mummies  is  now  lost. 

AVhat  will  not  prejudice  inspire?  To  re¬ 
spect  even  the  ashes  of  our  parents,  is  a  natu¬ 
ral  and  laudable  sentiment;  but  this  is  rather 
the  work  of  superstition. 

Rollin  says  on  this  subject,  “that  the  cus¬ 
tom  of  burning  the  dead,  has  in  it  something 
cruel  and  barbarous,  because  it  is  hastening  to 
destroy  the  remains  of  people,  who  were  the 
most  dear  to  us.”  He  can  fancy  nothing  better 
conceived  than  the  usual  practice  of  burying; 
as  if  it  were  more  humane,  to  deliver  over 
their  remains  to  worms  and  corruption. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


31 


CHAP.  XIV. 

Of  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt, 

THESE  famous  pyramids,  which  a  num¬ 
ber  of  writers  suppose  to  have  been  built  before 
the  deluge,  still  resist  the  injuries  of  time, 
which  has  destroyed  so  many  empires.  There 
are  still  three  of  them  remaining  near  Grand 
Cairo,  where  Memphis  formerly  stood.  The 
basis  of  the  largest  covers  11  acres  of  ground, 
and  its  perpendicular  height  is  500  feet,  bux  if 
measured  obliquely  to  the  terminating  point, 
700  feet.  It  contains  a  room  34  feet  long,  and 
17  broad,  in  which  is  a  marble  chest,  but  with¬ 
out  either  cover  or  contents,  supposed  to  have 
been  designed  for  the  tomb  of  the  founder. — 
Many  stones  of  this  enormous  edifice  are  30 
feet  long,  4  feet  high,  and  3  feet  broad. 

According  to  Herodotus,  an  hundred  thou¬ 
sand  workmen  were  employed  for  thirty  years, 
without  intermission,  either  in  preparing  the 
materials,  or  constructing  the  work.  And  an 
inscription  informs  us,  that  the  vegetables  with 
which  they  were  fed  cost  sixteen  hundred  ta¬ 
lents,  which  is  about  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
nine  thousand,  three  hundred  and  seventy-nine 
pounds  of  our  money. 

Several  writers  inveigh  against  the  foolish 
vanity,  which  prompted  the  sovereigns  of  that 
country  to  such  ruinous  undertakings. 

Some  have  imagined  that  these  pyramids 


1  LOWERS  OF 


were  granaries  built  by  Joseph  for  the  seven 
years  of  plenty — an  opinion  very  well  adapted 
for  characterizing  those  people  who  were  wed¬ 
ded  to  systems. 

The  pyramids  were  certainly  tombs,  by 
means  of  which  the  kings,  who  were  tainted 
with  the  prejudices  of  their  country,  wished  to 
make  themselves  immortal,  as  they  would  thus 
secure  to  their  bodies*  a  habitation  inaccessible, 
and  proof  against  the  attacks  of  time.  Be¬ 
sides  superstition,  probably  a  desire  of  prevent¬ 
ing  disturbances  was  another  motive  for  impos¬ 
ing  such  tedious  tasks  upon  the  people. 

But,  whatever  was  the  reason,  it  may  not  be 
improper  to  remark,  that  the  princes  who 
caused  these  pyramids  to  be  raised,  became  so 
hateful  by  the  oppressive  labor  which  they  im¬ 
posed  on  their  subjects,  that  they  did  not  enjoy 
those  tombs,  nor  save  their  names  from  obli¬ 
vion. 

The  labyrinth  is  a  curiosity  thought  to  be 
more  wonderful  than  the  pyramids  themselves, 
it  is  partly  underground,  and  cut  out  of  a  mar¬ 
ble  rock,  consisting  of  12  palaces,  and  1,000 
houses,  the  intricacies  of  which  occasion  its 
name. 

CHAP.  XV. 

Of  the  progress  of  Writing ,  by  Pictures ,  Hie - 
roglyphics ,  and  Symbols . 

PICTURES  were  undoubtedly  the  first 
essay  towards  writing*  Imitation  is  so  natural 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


So 


to  man,  that  in  all  ages,  and  among  all  nations, 
some  methods  have  obtained  of  copying  or  trac¬ 
ing  the  likeness  of  sensible  objects.  Those 
methods  would  soon  be  employed  by  men,  for 
giving  some  imperfect  information  to  others  at 
a  distance,  of  what  had  happened;  or  for  pre¬ 
serving  the  memory  of  facts,  which  they 
sought  to  record.  Thus,  to  signify  that  one 
man  killed  another,  they  drew  the  figure  of 
one  man  stretched  upon  the  earth,  and  of  ano¬ 
ther  standing  by  him  with  a  deadly  weapon  in 
his  hand.  We  find,  in  fact,  that  when  Ameri¬ 
ca  was  first  discovered,  this  was  the  only  sort 
of  writing  known  in  the  kingdom  of  Mexico. 
By  historical  pictures,  the  Mexicans  are  said  to 
have  transmitted  the  memory  of  the  most  im¬ 
portant  transactions  of  their  empire.  These, 
however,  must  have  been  extremely  imperfect 
records;  and  the  nations,  who  had  no  other, 
must  have  been  very  gross  and  rude.  Pictures 
could  do  no  more  than  delineate  external  events. 
They  could  neither  exhibit  the  connexions  of 
them,  nor  describe  such  qualities  as  were  not 
visible  to  the  eye,  nor  convey  an  idea  of  the  dis¬ 
positions  or  words  of  men. 

To  supply,  in  some  degree,  this  defect,  there 
arose,  in  process  of  time,  the  invention  of  what 
are  called  hieroglyphical  characters;  which 
may  be  considered  as  the  second  stage  of  the 
art  of  writing.  Hieroglyphics  consist  in  cer¬ 
tain  symbols,  which  are  made  to  stand  for  in¬ 
visible  objects,  on  account  of  an  analogy  or 
resemblance,  which  such  symbols  were  sup- 


FLOWERS  OF 


34 

posed  to  bear  to  the  objects.  Thus,  au  eye, 
was  the  hieroglyphieal  symbol  of  knowledge; 
a  circle,  of  eternity,  which  has  neither  begin¬ 
ning  or  end.  Hieroglyphics,  therefore,  were  a 
more  refined  and  extensive  species  ofpainting. 
Pictures  delineated  the  resemblance  of  external 
visible  objects.  Hieroglyphics  painted  visible 
objects,  by  analogies  taken  from  the  external 
world. 

Egypt  was  the  country  where  this  sort  of 
writing  was  most  studied,  and  brought  into  a 
regular  art.  In  hieroglyphics  they  conveyed 
all  the  boasted  wisdom  of  their  priests.  Accor¬ 
ding  to  the  properties  which  they  ascribed  to 
animals,  or  qualities  with  which  they  suppo¬ 
sed  natural  objects  to  be  endued,  they  pitched 
upon  them  to  be  the  emblems  or  hieroglyphics 
of  moral  objects;  and  employed  them  in  their 
writing  for  that  end.  Thus  ingratitude  was 
denominated  by  a  viper;  imprudence,  by  a  fly; 
wisdom,  by  an  ant;  victory,  by  a  hawk;  a  du¬ 
tiful  child,  bv  a  stork;  a  man  universallv  shun- 
ned,  by  an  eel,  which  they  supposed  to  he  found 
in  company  with  no  other  fish.  Sometimes 
they  joined  together  two  or  more  of  these  hie- 
roglyphieal  characters;  as,  a  serpent  with  a 
hawk’s  head,  to  denote  nature,  with  God  pre¬ 
siding  over  it. 

From  hieroglyphics,  or  symbols  of  tilings 
invisible,  writing  advanced,  among  some  na¬ 
tions,  to  simple  arbitrary  marks,  which  stood 
for  objects,  though  without  any  resemblance  or 
analogy  to  the  objects  signified.  Of  this  na- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


tirrc,  was  the  metliod  of  writing  practised 
among  the  Peruvians.  They  made  use  of 
small  cords  of  different  colors:  and  by  knots 
on  these  of  various  sizes  and  differently  ranged, 
they  contrived  signs  for  giving  information, 
and  communicating  their  thoughts  to  one  ano¬ 
ther. 

Of  this  nature  also  are  the  written  charac¬ 
ters  which  are  used  to  this  day  throughout  the 
great  empire  of  China.  The  Chinese  have  no 
alphabet  of  letters,  or  simple  sounds,  which 
compose  their  words.  But  every  single  cha¬ 
racter  which  they  use  in  writing,  is  significant 
of  an  idea;  it  is  a  mark  that  stands  for  some 
one  thing  or  object.  By  consequence,  the 
number  o£  their  characters  must  he  immense. 
It  must  correspond  to  the  whole  number  of 
objects  or  ideas,  which  they  have  occasion  to 
express;  that  is,  to  the  whole  number  of  words 
which  they  employ  in  speech.  They  are  said 
to  have  seventy  thousand  of  these  characters. 
To  read  and  write  them  to  perfection  is  the 
study  of  a  whole  life;  which  subjects  learning 
among  them  to  infinite  disadvantage,  and  must 
have  greatly  retarded  the  progress  of  all  sci¬ 
ence. 

CHAP.  XVI. 

Of  the  Trojans. 

IT  is  believed,  and  with  a  great  deal  of 
probability,  that  the  Trojans  were  originally  a 


36 


FLOWERS  01 


'/  U 

Greek  colony;  Dardanus,  their  first  king,  ha¬ 
ring  come  from  Arcadia;  and  their  religion, 
their  language,  and  the  greater  part  of  their 
names  being  evidently  of  Greek  extraction. — 
The  name  of  Ilium,  by  which  their  chief  city 
was  known  to  the  Greeks,  is  thought  to  have 
been  derived  from  Ilus,  and  its  other  name  of 
Troy,  from  Tros.  ''Priam,  its  last  king,  had 
arrived  to  a  very  high  pitch  of  wealth  and 
power.  He  was  the  father  of  fifty  sons.  The 
walls  of  Troy  were  rebuilt  by  him,  he  changed 
the  name  of  the  town  to  Pergamus;  and  reign  - 
cd  for  many  years  with  great  prosperity. 

In  the  mean  time  queen  Hecuba,  Priam’s 
second  wife,  having  dreamed  that  she  should 
bring  forth  a  fire  brand,  by  which  the  city 
should  be  reduced  to  ashes,  Priam  was  so 
much  alarmed,  that  he  ordered  the  child  to  be 
exposed,  as  soon  as  it  should  be  born.  The 
Tehild  was  named  Paris;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  order  of  his  father,  was  by  the  care  of  He¬ 
cuba,  preserved  and  privately  educated.  When 
grown  up,  he  appeared  at  court,  where  his 
beautiful  person  attracted  general  admiration. 
Upon  this  he  ventured  to  discover  himself  to 
Priam,  who  was  so  delighted  with  his  figure 
and  accomplishments,  that  he  thought  no  more 
of  the  dream.  Paris  soon  after  undertook  an 
expedition  into  Greece,  on  pretence  of  recov¬ 
ering  his  aunt  Ilesione,  who,  when  very  young, 
had  been  carried  away  by  Hercules,  and  by 
him  had  been  given  in  marriage  to  Telamon. 
It  may  not  be  improper  to  mentionthe  occasion 
of  this  rape. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY.  ST 

/ 

Laomedon,  the  father  of  Hesione,  had  ap¬ 
plied  the  treasures  of  the  temples  of  Neptune 
and  Apollo  to  build  the  walls  of  Troy,  under 
a  promise  of  repaying  the  sums  so  abstracted* 
But  being  either  unable,  or  unwilling,  to  dis¬ 
charge  his  promise,  the  oracle  declared,  that 
he  could  not  otherwise  expatiate  this  sacrilege, 
hut  by  exposing  a  Trojan  virgin  to  a  sea-mon¬ 
ster.  Hesione  was  condemned  by  lot  to  un¬ 
dergo  this  punishment.  Hercules,  however, 
slew  the  monster,  and  rescued  Hesione.  It  is 
well  known  how  much  this  event  has  been  dis¬ 
guised  by  the  fictions  of  poets. 

CHAP.  XVII. 

Of  the  Seduction  of  Helen  by  Paris. 

PARIS,  on  his  arrival  at  Sparta,  was  re¬ 
ceived  in  the  most  kind  and  hospitable  manner 
by  Menalaus,  who  had  succeeded  to  that  king¬ 
dom,  in  the  right  of  his  wife  Helen,  the  daugh¬ 
ter  of  Tyndarus.  But  Paris  falling  in  love 
with  Helen,  prevailed  on  her  to  run  away  with 
him,  and  thereby  plunged  his  country  into  an 
abyss  of  misfortunes. 

We  may,  however,  trace  the  cause  of  the 
Trojan  war  to  a  higher  source  still,  and  attri¬ 
bute  it  to  an  hereditary  animosity,  which  had 
long  subsisted  between  the  families  of  Aga¬ 
memnon  and  Priam.  For  Tantalus  king  of 
Phyrgia,  and  great- graud-fatlier  to  Agamem¬ 
non,  having  violently  carried  off  Ganymedes? 

n 


3S 


FLOWERS  OF 


brother  of  Has,  the  grand-father  of  Priam, 
Ilus  had  taken  vengeance  for  this  injury,  by 
stripping  Tantalus  of  his  dominions,  and  oblig¬ 
ing  him  to  take  refuge  in  Greece,  where  his 
son  Pelops  and  his  descendants  established 
themselves,  under  the  name  of  Pelopidse. 

CHAP.  XVIII. 

Of  the  Expedition  against  Troy. 

MENALAUS,  fired  with  indignation  at 
the  insult  committed  against  him  by  Paris,  per¬ 
suaded  his  brother  Agamemnon  to  espouse  his 
quarrel;  and  by  their  joint  efforts,  the  two  bro¬ 
thers  brought  all  the  other  powers  of  Greece 
to  unite  in  die  same  cause,  and  to  bind  them¬ 
selves  bv  oath,  either  to  recover  Helen  or  to 
ruin  Troy.  Agamemnon  was  chosen  com¬ 
mander  in  chief  of  this  grand  confederacy. 

Aulus  was  the  general  rendezvous  of  all  the 
Grecian  forces;  who  when  assembled  there, 
composed  altogether  an  army  of  100,000  men. 
The  fleet  destined  to  carry  them  to  Troy  con¬ 
sisted  of  about  1,150  vessels.  The  gallies  of 
Beotia  carried  each  120  men,  and  those  of  Phi- 
loctetes  50.  These  vessels  had  no  deck,  but 
were  made  like  open  boats.  Of  the  chiefs 
who  accompanied  the  army,  the  most  famous 
were,  Agamemnon,  Menalaus,  Diomedes,  Sthe- 
nelus,  Nestor,  Aj  ax  son  of  Telamon,  Ajax 
9on  of  Oileues,  Achilles,  his  friend  Patroclus, 
and  U  lysses. 


AN Clli NT  HISTORY.  39 

• 

The  Greeks  having  landed  on  the  plains  of 
Troy,  soon  perceived  that  the  Trojans  were 
as  brave  a  people  as  themselves.  In  the  mean 
time,  Ulysses  and  Menalaus  were  sent  to  Pri¬ 
am,  to  demand  the  restitution  of  Helen;  but 
that  prince,  in  opposition  to  the  opinion  of  his 
council,  having  refused  to  comply  with  their 
request,  both  parties  made  vigorous  prepara** 
tions  for  war. 

The  Greeks  after  defeating  the  Trojans  in 
two  different  engagements,  found  themselves 
under  the  necessity  of  dividing  their  forces, 
the  more  easily  to  procure  provisions,  of  which 
they  began  to  be  in  great  want.  This  gave 
leisure  to  the  Trojans  to  negotiate  with  the 
neighboring  states  for  assistance. 

Achilles,  in  the  mean  time,  who  commanded 
the  detachment  of  the  army  sent  out  in  search 
of  provisions,  performed  many  signal  exploits, 
took  several  towns,  and  made  a  vast  booty. — 
But  the  cruelty  of  the  Greeks  to  Palemedes, 
one  of  his  bravest  officers,  whom  they  put  to 
death,  upon  a  false  accusation  of  treason 
brought  against  him  by  Ulysses,  so  provoked 
Achilles,  that  he  refused  to  give  them  further 
assistance  in  the  war,  and  separated  his  troops 
from  the  rest  of  the  army. 

CHAP.  XIX. 

The  Siege  of  Troy . 

THE  nine  first  years  of  the  war  were  con¬ 
sumed  in  various  engagements  of  no  great  im- 


40 


FLOWERS  or 


portance;  the  Greeks  having,  in  that  time, 
chiefly  employed  themselves  in  ravaging  the 
territoi  •ies  of  Priam  and  his  allies.  It  is  there¬ 
fore  true  that  the  war  of  Troy  continued  ten 
years;  but  it  is  not  true,  as.  is  commonly  be¬ 
lieved.  that  the  city  of  Troy  was  besieged  all 
that  space;  for  it  was  not  till  the  spring  of  the 
tenth  year  that  the  Greeks  formed  the  siege. 

They  at  first  experienced  the  most  vigorous 
resistance  on  the  part  of  the  besieged,  who 
were  commanded  by  Hector,  his  brother  Dei- 
phobos,  and  by  several  princes  that  had  come 
to  their  assistance;  such  as  Sarpedon,  Rhoesus, 
and  Memnon.  The  Trojans  had  even  the  ad¬ 
vantage  in  several  engagements,  and  made  a 
great  slaughter  of  the  Greeks,  but  none  of 
these  actions  were  decisive. 

At  last,  however,  Hector,  at  the  head  of  the 
Trojans,  beat  the  enemy  fairly  from  the  field, 
pursued  them  to  their  camp,  forced  the  en¬ 
trenchments,  and  set  fire  to  their  ships;  and 
the  victory  seemed  at  last  on  the  point  of  de¬ 
claring  for  the  Trojans.  But  Patroclus,  the 
friend  of  Achilles,  perceiving  the  extreme  dis¬ 
tress  of  the  Greeks,  advanced  in  this  critical 
moment  to  their  relief,  with  the  troops  of 
Achilles,  reckoned  the  bravest  of  the  Grecian 
army,  rallied  the  Greeks,  and  repulsed  the 
Trojans.  Several  of  the  best  officers,  on  both 
sides,  fell  on  the  occasion;  among  the  rest  Sar¬ 
pedon,  slain  by  Patroclus,  and  Patroclus  him- 
seif,  slain  by  the  hand  of  Hector. 

Affairs  now  assume  a  different  appearance. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


4i 


Achilles?  furious  for  the  loss  of  his  friend,  for- 
getting  the  former  cause  of  his  resentment, 
joins  his  forces  to  the  rest  of  the  Grecian  army, 
beats  the  Trojans,  and  sacrifices  on  the  tomb 
of  Patroclus,  twelve  of  the  noblest  prisoners 
taken  by  him  in  the  engagement.  He  is  now* 
solely  intent  on  fighting  personally  with  Hec¬ 
tor,  whom  he  engaged,  and  kills  at  last.  But 
not  satisfied  with  the  death  of  his  gallant  ene¬ 
my,  he  sullies  the  glory  of  his  victory,  by  in¬ 
sulting,  in  the  most  ungenerous  and  savage 
manner,  over  his  dead  body,  which  he  drags 
at  his  chariot  wheels  around  the  city.  Achil¬ 
les  himself  is  slain  soon  after  by  Paris;  who, 
in  like  manner,  falls  in  a  short  time  by  the 
hand  of  Philoctetes., 


CHA?.  XX. 

Of  the  Wooden  Horse .■ 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  Trojans,  by 
the  death  of  Hector,  had  lost  their  chief  sup¬ 
port,  they  placed  great  confidence  in  their  Pal» 
ladium,  or  image  of  Pallas;  it  having  been 
told  them  by  the  oracle,  that  the  city  should 
not  be  taken  so  long  as  that  image  remained  in 
it.  This  being  understood  by  Diomedes  and 
Ulysses,  they  surprised  and  killed  the  keepers 
of  the  temple,  and  carried  away  this  famous 
statue. 

The  city  at  length,  as  it  is  generally  related, 
was  taken  by  the  stratagem  of  a  wooden  horse, 

d  2 


42 


FLOWERS  OF 


by  the  treachery  of  Sinon;  the  son  of  Sisyphus, 
a  crafty  Greek,  who  by  delusive  arts  prevailed 
on  the  Trojans  to  receive  into  the  city  the 
Grecian  horse,  wherein  were  concealed  a  nura 
her  of  resolute  Grecians,  who  in  the  night 
opened  the  gates,  let  in  the  Grecian  army,  and 
sacked  and  burnt  the  city. 

Some  authors,  however,  are  of  opinion,  that 
Antenor  and  ^Eneas  treacherously  delivered  up 
the  statue  of  Minerva  to  the  Greeks,  and  at 
tlie  same  time  betrayed  the  city,  by  throwing 
open  the  gates  to  the  enemy  in  the  night. 

The  destruction  of  Troy,  which  happened 
1,184  years  before  Christ,  is  one  of  the  most 
memorable  epochas  of  antiquity.  And  indeed, 
this  war  may  be  said  to  have  afforded  the  first 
public  display  of  Grecian  valor.  It  is  likewise 
worth  remarking,  that  the  misfortunes  of  Troy 
have  furnished  the  subject  of  the  two  most  per¬ 
fect  epic  poems  in  the^world,  namely,  the  Iliads 
and  the  iEneid. 

CHAP.  XXI. 

Of  the  Consequences  of  the  Trojan  War. 

MENALAUS,  alone,  by  recovering  Helen, 
reaped  an  apparent  advantage  from  the  success 
of  his  enterprise.  To  the  other  Greeks,  it 
proved  a  source  of  the  bitterest  misfortunes. 
The  fields  of  Troy  were  enriched  with  the 
blood  of  their  best  commanders  and  soldiers, 
of  whom  the  far  greater  part  were  buried 


ANCIENT  HISTORY  43 

there;  and  the  remains  of  their  army,  after  be¬ 
ing  further  considerably  diminished  by  the  dis¬ 
asters  of  a  tempestuous  voyage,  found  on  their 
arrival  at  home,  nothing  but  mortifications  and 
disappointments  of  the  most  cruel  kinds.  They 
met  with  such  disorder  in  their  families,  such 
factions  and  innovations  in  the  government, 
that  they  were  either  murdered,  or  forced  to 
fly  to  foreign  states  for  refuge:  insomuch  that 
the  wives  and  mistresses  of  the  Grecian  cap¬ 
tives  dated  their  miseries  from  this  war. 

CHAP.  XXII. 

Of  Homer . 

HOMER  lived  about  340  years  after  the 
siege  of  Troy;  and  he  is  commonly  accounted 
a  native  of  Smyrna.  He  is  usually  represent¬ 
ed  as  blind;  and  we  are  told  that  he  employed 
himself  in  wandering  through  the  country  in 
the  character  of  an  itinerant  bard.  This,  how¬ 
ever,  must  not  depreciate  in  our  eyes  his  won¬ 
derful  merit,  of  which  his  works  convey  so  high 
an  idea;  for  we  there  see  him  carrying  at  once 
to  the  summit  of  perfection  the  art  of  epic  po¬ 
etry,  of  which  he  is  accounted  the  inventor. 

The  two  principal  poems  of  Horner  are  the 
Iliad  and  Odyssey.  The  subject  of  the  Iliad 
is  the  wrath  of  Achilles,  which  proved  so  fatal 
to  the  Greeks  when  besieging  Troy;  that  of  the 
Odyssey  is  the  voyages  and  adventures  of  Ulys¬ 
ses,  after  the  sacking  of  that  city. 


44 


FLOWERS  OF 


The  war  against  Troy,  which  furnishes  the 
subject  of  these  immortal  poems,  has  been  call¬ 
ed  in  question  by  some  authors,  who  fancy  it 
to  be  altogether  the  production  of  Homer’s  in¬ 
vention.  But  their  labours  to  convince  the 
world  of  the  truth  of  this  opinion,  have  been 
extremely  vain.  For,  without  mentioning  the 
other  ancient  authors  who  record  that  event,  it 
is  incredible  that  Homer  should  have  employ¬ 
ed  his  heaven-born  muse,  on  a  subject  not 
heard  of  before.  So  accurate  a  judge  of  hu¬ 
man  nature  must  have  felt  that  a  subject  pure¬ 
ly  fictitious,  however  harmoniously  sung,  could 
have  drawn  from  his  hearers  but  a  momentary 
attention.  Had  not  the  subject  of  his  poem 
been  deeply  interesting,  much  of  its  merit  must 
have  been  overlooked,  and  much  of  that  great 
fame  at  which  he  aspired,  must  of  course  have 
been  iost. 

Homer  is  peculiarly  happy  in  the  harmony 
of  his  numbers,  and  the  judicious  arrangement 
of  his  words  and  periods.  In  the  article  of  de¬ 
scription,  he  is  rather  a  painter  than  a  poet, 
and,  in  that  particular,  excels  all  the  poets 
that  ever  wrote.  In  describing  the  march 
of  an  army,  the  majesty  of  Jove,  and  the  part¬ 
ing  of  Hector  and  Andromache,  he  lays  before 
our  eyes  so  many  lively  and  beautiful  pieces  of 
painting.  Nothing  can  be  more  ingenious 
than  his  machinery,  nor  more  properly  intro¬ 
duced. 

His  fame  rests  on  the  firmest  foundation — 
His  countrymen,  who  thoroughly  understood 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


<he  characters  and  manners  he  described,  and 
the  language  in  which  he  wrote,  and  who  ex¬ 
celled  all  mankind  in  the  acuteness  of  their 
understanding,  and  the  exquisite  delicacy  of 
their  taste,  regarded  his  Iliad  and  his  Odyssey, 
as  the  most  perfect  works  of  human  genius. 
Great  cities  contended  for  the  honor  of  the  po¬ 
et’s  birth.  The  venerable  Lvcurgus  collected 
and  transcribed  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  with  his 
own  hand.  Solon  ordained  them  to  be  solemnly 
recited  in  the  Athenian  republic.  Alexander 
the  Great  was  so  passionately  fond  of  their  pe¬ 
rusal,  that  he  placed  them  every  night  under 
his  pillow.  And  the  most  ingenious  of  the  an¬ 
cient  critics  deduced  from  these  poems  the  just- 
est  rules  of  criticism.  To  crown  his  praise, 
the  best  epic  poets,  in  succeeding  times,  have 
looked  up  to  Homer  as  the  most  perfect  mo¬ 
del  for  their  imitation.  They  have  not  only 
copied  him  exactly  in  the  arrangement  and  con¬ 
duct  of  their  subject;  but  many  passages  in 
their  poems  are  little  else  than  paraphrases 
from  his  admirable  works. 

CHAP.  XXIII. 

Of  Thales ,  Heraclitus ,  Democritus ,  and  Simo¬ 
nides. 

THALES  was  the  first  Greek,  who  treated 
of  natural  philosophy.  He  gave  general  no¬ 
tions  of  the  universe,  and  maintained  that  an 
only  supreme  intelligence  regulated  all  its  md- 


46 


FLOWERS'  OF 


lions.  He  discovered  the  cause  of  eclipses, 
which  in  those  days  were  accounted  prodigies. 
Valerius  Maximus  tells  of  him,  that  on  being 
asked,  whether  a  man  could  conceal  his  actions 
from  the  Deity,  he  answered,  “How  is  that  * 
possible,  since  he  cannot  conceal  from  him  even 
his  thoughts?”  His  great  knowledge  procur¬ 
ed  him  a  place  among  the  seven  wise  men  of 
Greece. 

Heraclitus  was  a  native  of  Ephesus,  where 
he  became  the  founder  of  a  sect  of  philoso¬ 
phers.  We  know  little  more  of  him,  except 
that  he  was  a  professed  misanthrope;  that  he 
beheld  with  pity  all  the  actions  of  men;  that 
he  constantly  wept  for  their  miseries,  and  from 
thence  obtained  the  name  of  the  crying  philo¬ 
sopher. 

Democritus  was  a  native  of  Abdera  in 
Thrace,  and  lived  in  the  time  of  Xerxes,  king 
of  Persia.  As  a  philosopher,  he  was  in  high 
esteem.  His  desire  of  knowledge  induced  him 
to  travel  through  the  greatest  part  of  the  then 
known  world;  and  in  those  journies  he  spent  a 
very  considerable  fortune.  He  lived  in  perfect 
indifference  about  all  the  events  of  life,  and 
used  to  laugh  at  the  follies  of  mankind.  His 
residing  for  the  most  part  among  tombs,  in¬ 
clined  many  to  believe  him  to  be  disordered 
in  his  judgment,  and  the  inhabitants  of  Abdera 
intreated  Hippocrates,  the  famous  physician, 
to  go  and  see  him.  Hippocrates  accordingly 
paid  him  a  visit;  but  on  discoursing  with  him, 
immediately  discovered  him  to  be  a  man  of 
extraordinary  knowledge  and  understanding* 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


*7 


Simonides,  a  native  of  Ceos,  distinguished 
himself  by  his  elegiac  verses.  His  answer  to 
Iliero’s  question,  “What  is  God?”  is  well 
known.  Simonides  at  first  desired  one  day  to 
consider  of  the  question;  when  that  was  elaps¬ 
ed,  he  demanded  two  days  more;  then  four; 
and  so  on  for  a  considerable  time,  always  dou¬ 
bling  the  space  he  had  last  requested.  Hiero, 
suprised  at  this  behavior,  asked  him  the  rea¬ 
son  of  it.  “Because,”  answered  Simonides, 
“the  more  I  meditate  on  the  subject  of  your 
question,  the  more  incomprehensible  I  find  it.” 


CHAP.  xxiy. 

Of  the  Republic  of  Sparta . 

OF  all  the  Grecian  states,  that  of  Sparta 
«eems  to  have  been  the  most  unhappy,  before 
their  government  was  new  modeled  by  Lyeur- 
gus.  The  authority  of  their  kings  and  their 
laws  were  alike  trampled  upon  and  despised.— 
Nothing  could  restrain  the  insolence  of  the 
headstrong  encroaching  populace;  and  the 
whole  government  sunk  into  anarchy  and  con¬ 
fusion.  From  this  deplorable  situation,  the 
wisdom  and  virtue  of  one  great  man  raised 
his  country  to  that  height  of  power,  which  was 
the  envy  and  terror  of  her  neighbors.  A  con¬ 
vincing  proof,  how  far  the  influence  of  one 
great  and  good  man  will  operate  towards  re¬ 
forming  the  most  bold  licentious  people,  when 
he  has  once  thoroughly  acquired  their  esteem 
and  confidence! 


48 


FLOWERS  or 


Lycurgus  succeeded  to  half  the  government 
of  Sparta,  at  the  death  of  his  elder  brother. 
But  his  brother’s  widow  proving  to  he  with 
child,  he  immediately  resigned  the  regal  digni¬ 
ty  to  the  new-born  infant,  and  governed  as  pro* 
tector  and  guardian  to  the  young  prince,  dur¬ 
ing  his  minority. 

The  generous  and  disinterested  behavior  of 
Lycurgus  upon  this  occasion,  endeared  him 
greatly  to  the  people,  who  had  already  experi¬ 
enced  the  happy  effects  of  his  wise  and  equita¬ 
ble  administration.  But  to  avoid  the  malice  of 
the  queen-mother  and  her  faction,  who  accused 
him  with  designs  upon  the  crown,  he  prudently 
quitted  both  the  government  and  his  country. 
In  his  travels,  during  his  voluntary  exile,  he 
drew  up,  and  thoroughly  digested  his  great 
scheme  of  reformation.  lie  visited  all  those 
states  which  at  that  time  were  most  eminent 
for  the  wisdom  of  their  laws,  or  the  form  of 
their  constitution.  He  carefully  observed  all  the 
different  institutions,  and  the  good  or  bad  ef¬ 
fects,  which  they  respectively  produced  on  the 
manners  of  each  people.  He  took  care  to 
avoid  what  he  judged  to  be  defects;  but  se¬ 
lected  whatever  he  found  calculated  to  pro¬ 
mote  the  happiness  of  a  people.  With  these 
materials  he  formed  his  so  much  celebrated  plan 
of  legislation,  which  he  very  soon  had  an  op¬ 
portunity  of  reducing  to  practice.  For  the 
Spartans,  thoroughly  sensible  of  the  difference 
between  the  administrations  of  Lycurgus,  and 
that  of  their  kings,  not  only  earnestly  wished 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


49 


his  presence,  but  sent  repeated  deputations  to 
intreat  him  to  return,  and  free  them  from  the 
numerous  disorders  under  which  their  country 
at  that  time  labored. 

As  the  request  of  the  people  was  unanimous, 
and  the  kings  did  not  oppose  his  return,  he 
judged  it  the  critical  time  for  the  execution 
of  his  scheme.  For  he  found  affairs  at  home 
in  the  distracted  situation  they  had  been  repre¬ 
sented,  and  the  whole  body  of  the  people  in  a 
disposition  proper  for  his  purpose. 

Lycurgus  began  his  reform  wi«h  a  change 
in  the  constitution,  which,  at  that  time,  con¬ 
sisted  of  a  confused  medley  of  hereditary  mon¬ 
archy,  divided  between  two  families,  and  a  dis¬ 
orderly  democracy,  utterly  destitute  of  the 
balance  of  a  third  immediate  power,  a  circum¬ 
stance  so  essential  to  the  duration  of  all  mixed 
governments. 

To  remedy  this  evil  he  established  a  senate 
to  counterbalance  the  power  of  the  kings  on 
the  one  hand,  and  that  of  the  people  on  the 
other. 

The  crown  of  Sparta  had  been  long  divided 
between  two  families,  descended  originally 
from  the  same  ancestor,  who  jointly  enjoyed 
the  succession.  But  though  Lycurgus  was 
sensible,  that  all  the  mischiefs  which  had  hap¬ 
pened  to  the  state,  arose  from  this  absurd  di¬ 
vision  of  the  regal  power,  yet  he  made  no  al¬ 
teration  as  to  the  succession  of  the  two  fami¬ 
lies.  Any  innovation  in  so  nice  a  point,  might 
have  proved  an  endless  source  of  civil  eoinmo- 

E 


50 


iXOWKRS  OF 


tions,  from  tlie  pretensions  of  that  line  which 
should  happen  to  he  excluded.  He,  therefore, 
left  them  the  title  and  insignia  of  royalty,  hut 
limited  their  authority,  which  he  confined  to 
the  business  of  war  and  religion.  To  the  peo¬ 
ple  he  gave  the  privilege  of  electing  the  sena¬ 
tors,  and  giving  their  sanction  to  those  laws* 
which  the  kings  and  senate  should  approve. 

CHAP.  XXV. 

Laics  of  Lycurgus  respecting  Property ,  Public 
Tables ,  and  Surpurfuous  Arts. 

WHEN  Lycurgus  had  regulated  the  govern¬ 
ment,  he  undertook  a  task  more  arduous  than 
any  of  the  fabled  labors  of  Hercules.  This 
was  to  new-mould  his  countrymen,  by  extir¬ 
pating  all  the  destructive  passions,  and  raising 
them  above  every  weakness  and  infirmity  of 
human  nature;  a  scheme,  which  all  the  great 
philosophers  had  taught  in  theory,  but  none, 
except  Lycurgus,  was  ever  able  to  reduce  to 
practice. 

As  he  found  the  two  extremes  of  great  wealth 
and  great  indigence,  were  the  source  of  infinite 
mischief  in  a  free  state,  he  divided  the  lands  of 
the  whole  territory  into  equal  lots,  proportion¬ 
ed  to  the  number  of  the  inhabitants.  This  par¬ 
tition  of  the  lands  met  with  so  violent  an  oppo¬ 
sition  from  the  men  of  fortune,  that  a  fray 
ensued,  in  which  Lycurgus  lost  one  of  his  eyes. 
But  the  people,  struck  with  the  sight  of  the 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


5i 


blood  of  this  admired  legislator,  seized  the  of- 
tender,  one  Alcander,  a  young  man  of  a  hot 
but  not  disingenuous  disposition,  and  gave  him 
up  to  Lycurgus  to  he  punished  at  discretion.— 
But  the  humane  and  generous  behavior  of  Ly- 
eurgus  quickly  made  a  convert  of  Alcander,  and 
wrought  such  a  change,  that  from  an  enemy, 
he  became  his  greatest  admirer  and  advocate 
with  the  people. 

Lycurgus  likewise  appointed  public  tables, 
at  which  he  enjoined  all  the  citizens  to  eat  to¬ 
gether  without  distinction;  and  he  subjected 
every  man,  even  the  kings  themselves,  to  a  fine 
if  they  should  violate  this  law  by  eating  at  their 
own  houses.  The  diet  was  plain,  simple,  and 
regulated  by  the  law,  and  distributed  among 
the  guests  in  equal  portions.  Every  member 
was  obliged  monthly  to  contribute  his  quota, 
for  the  provision  of  his  respective  table.  A 
bushel  of  flour,  eight  gallons  of  wine,  five 
pounds  of  cheese,  two  pounds  and  a  half  of  ligs, 
together  with  a  small  sum  of  money  to  pur¬ 
chase  a  little  flesh  and  fish,  and  to  cook  the 
victuals,  was  the  monthly  contribution  of  each 
member. 

The  conversation  allowed  at  these  public  re¬ 
pasts,  turned  wholly  upon  such  subjects  as 
tended  most  to  improve  the  minds  of  the  youn¬ 
ger  sort,  in  the  principles  of  wisdom  and  vir¬ 
tue.  Hence,  as  Xenophon  observes,  they  were 
schools,  not  only  for  temperance  and  sobriety, 
but  also  for  instruction. 

Thus  Lycurgus  introduced  a  perfect  equal- 


52 


FLOWERS  OF 


ity  amongst  bis  countrymen.  The  highest  and 
the  lowest  fared  alike,  as  to  diet,  all  were 
lodged  and  clothed  alike,  without  the  least  va¬ 
riation,  either  in  fashion  or  materials. 

To  prevent  all  incitements  to  luxury,  Ly- 
curgus  prohibited  the  practice  of  all  superflu¬ 
ous  and  unnecessary  arts  at  Sparta,  that  his 
citizens  might  not  he  accustomed,  to  sights  con¬ 
demned  by  the  laws,  nor  listen  to  the  justifi¬ 
cation  of  crimes  and  irregular  passions.  In 
place  of  such  occupations  and  amusements, 
hunting  and  bodily  exercises  were  encouraged 
jand  constituted  the  ordinary  business  of  the 
Spartans. 

CHAP.  XXVI. 

Laws  respecting  Money  and  Commerce . 

WHEN  Lycurgus  had  exterminated  every 
species  of  luxury,  he  next  removed  all  temp¬ 
tation  to  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  that  fatal 
source  of  the  innumerable  evils,  w  hich  prevail¬ 
ed  in  every  other  country.  He  effected  this 
with  his  usual  policy,  by  forbidding  the  cur¬ 
rency  of  gold  and  silver  money,  and  substi¬ 
tuting  an  iron  coinage  of  great  weight  and  lit¬ 
tle  value,  which  continued  the  only  current 
coin  through  the  Spartan  dominions,  for  several 
ages. 

To  bar  up  the  entrance  of  wealth,  and  guard 
his  citizens  against  the  contagion  of  corrup¬ 
tion,  he  absolutely  prohibited  navigation  and 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


53 


commerce,  though  his  country  contained  a 
large  extent  of  sea-coast,  furnished  with  excel¬ 
lent  harbors.  He  allowed  as  little  intercourse 
as  possible  with  foreigners,  nor  suffered  any  of 
his  countrymen  to  visit  the  neighboring  states, 
unless  when  public  business  required  it,  lest 
they  should  be  infected  with  their  vices.  Mu¬ 
sic  he  encouraged,  and  poetry  he  admitted,  but 
both  subject  to  the  inspection  of  the  magis¬ 
trates.  Thus,  by  the  equal  partition  of  lands, 
and  the  abolition  of  gold  and  silver  money,  he 
at  once  preserved  his  country  from  luxury,  ava¬ 
rice,  and  all  those  evils,  which  arise  from  an 
irregular  indulgence  of  the  passions,  as  well  as 
all  contentions  about  property. 


CHAP.  XXVII. 

Of  the  Education  of  the  Spartan  Foutlu 

TO  insure  the  observance  of  his  laws  to 
the  latest  posterity,  Lycurgus  next  formed 
proper  regulations  for  the  education  of  the 
Spartan  children,  which  he  esteemed  one  of 
the  greatest  duties  of  a  legislator.  His  grand 
maxim  was,  “That  children  were  the  property 
of  the  state,  to  which  alone  their  education  was 
to  be  entrusted.” 

In  their  infancy,  the  nurses  were  instructed 
to  indulge  them  neither  in  their  diet,  nor  in 
those  little  froward  humors  which  are  so  pecu¬ 
liar  to  that  age:  to  inure  them  to  bear  cold  and 
fastings  to  conquer  their  first  fears  by  accns- 

e  2 


FLOWERS  OF 


'  54 

toming  them  to  solitude  and  darkness;  and  to 
prepare  them  for  that  stricter  state  of  disci¬ 
pline,  to  which  they  wore  soon  to  he  initiated. 

When  arrived  at  the  age  of  seven  years, 
they  were  taken  from  the  nurses,  and  placed  • 
in  their  proper  classes.  The  diet  and  clothing 
of  all  were  the  same,  just  sufficient  to  support 
nature,  and  defend  them  from  the  inclemency 
of  the  seasons;  and  they  all  lodged  alike,  in 
the  same  dormitory,  on  beds  of  reeds,  to  which, 
for  the  sake  of  warmth,  they  were  allowed  in 
the  winter  to  add  the  down  of  thistles.  Their 
sports  and  exercises  were  such  as  contributed 
to  render  their  limbs  supple,  atid  their  bodies 
compaet  and  firm.  They  were  accustomed  to 
yun  up  the  steepest  rocks  barefoot;  and  swim¬ 
ming,  dancing,  hunting,  boxing,  and  wrestling, 
weVe  their  constant  diversions. 

Nor  were  the  minds  of  the  Spartan  youth 
cultivated  with  less  care.  Their  learning,  as 
Plutarch  informs  us,  was  sufficient  for  their 
occasions,  for  Lycurgus  admitted  nothing  but 
what  was  truly  useful.  They  carefully  instil¬ 
led  into  their  tender  minds  the  great  duties  of 
religion,  and  the  sacred  indispensible  obliga¬ 
tion  of  an  path,  and  trained  them  up  in  the 
best  of  sciences,  the  principles  of  wisdom  and 
'virtue. 

The  love  of  their  country  was  the  chief  sen¬ 
timent  with  which  the  Spartans  endeavored  to 
inspire  their  youth;  and  the  science  of  war 
was  almost  their  only  study.  For  it  appears 
to  haye  been  the  intention  of  Lycurgus  to  form 


ANCIENT  HISTOEY, 


5k 

a  nation  of  soldiers:  not  indeed  that  they 
might  indulge  themselves  in  a  spirit  of  con¬ 
quest,  and  by  that  means  give  way  to  ambition 
and  injustice,  but  that  they  might  be  able  to 
maintain  the  peace  and  liberties  of  their  na¬ 
tive  country,  against  turbulent  and  ambitious 
neighbors. 

Their  first  and  principal  lesson  in  the  art  of 
war,  was,  “Never  to  fly,  let  the  enemy  out¬ 
number  them  ever  so  much;  but  either  to  die 
or  to  conquer.”  Those  who  fled  in  an  engage¬ 
ment  were  rendered  infamous  for  ever,  and 
might  be  insulted  by  any  person  with  impu¬ 
nity. 

Another  singular,  but  very  political  maxim, 
observed  by  the  Spartans  in  war,  was  “Never 
to  pursue  a  vanquished  enemy  beyond  the  field 
of  battle.’5  For  this  reason,  their  adversaries 
being  sure  of  finding  safety  in  flight,  were  in¬ 
duced  to  fight  with  less  obstinacy.  War,  in¬ 
stead  of  a  hardship,  was  by  the  Spartans  con¬ 
sidered  as  a  recreation;  for  then  and  at  no 
other  time,  the  extreme  rigor  and  severity  of 
their  usual  course  of  life,  was,  in  a  good  mea¬ 
sure,  relaxed. 

CHAP.  XXVIII. 

Of  Lycurgus9  Scheme  for  perpetuating  his 
Laws ,  and  of  his  Death . 

AS  soon  as  Lycurgus  had  thoroughly  settled 
his  new  policy,  and  by  his  care  and  assiduity 


o6 


FLOWERS  OF 


imprinted  his  laws  so  deeply  on  the  minds 
and  manners  of  his  countrymen,  that  he  judg¬ 
ed  the  constitution  able  to  support  itself,  and 
stand  upon  its  own  bottom,  his  last  scheme 
was,  to  fix  and  perpetuate  its  duration  down  to 
the  latest  posterity,  as  far  as  human  prudence 
and  human  means  could  effect  it.  To  bring 
his  scheme  to  bear,  he  told  the  people  in  a  ge¬ 
neral  assembly,  that  he  could  not  possibly  put 
the  finishing  stroke  to  his  new  establishment, 
which  was  the  most  essential  point,  till  he  had 
again  consulted  the  oracle.  As  they  all 
expressed  the  greatest  eagerness  for  his  under¬ 
taking  the  journey,  he  laid  hold  of  so  fair  an 
opportunity  to  bind  the  kings,  senate,  and  peo¬ 
ple,  by  the  most  solemn  oaths,  to  the  strict  ob¬ 
servance  of  his  new  form  of  government,  and 
not  to  attempt  the  least  alteration  in  any  one 
particular,  till  his  return  from  Delphos. 

He  had  now  completed  the  great  design, 
which  he  had  long  in  view,  and  bid  an  eternal 
adieu  to  his  country.  The  question  he  put  to 
the  oracle  was,  “Whether  the  laws  he  had  al¬ 
ready  established,  were  rightly  formed,  to  make 
and  preserve  his  countrymen  virtuous  and  hap¬ 
py?”  The  answer  he  received,  was  just  as  fa¬ 
vorable  as  he  desired.  It  was,  “that  his 
laws  were  excellently  calculated  for  that  pur¬ 
pose;  and  that  Sparta  should  continue  to  be  the 
most  renow  ned  city  in  the  world,  as  long  as  her 
citizens  persisted  in  the  observance  of  the  laws 
of  Lycurgus.” 

He  transmitted  both  the  question  and  the 


ANCIENT  HISTORY* 


b-7 


answer  home  to  Sparta  in  writing,  and  devoted 
the  remainder  of  his  life  to  voluntary  banish¬ 
ment.  This  wise  and  truly  disinterested  legis¬ 
lator  ended  his  days  in  the  island  of  Crete, 
and  desired,  as  his  la$t  request,  that  his  body 
might  be  burnt,  and  his  ashes  thrown  into  the 
sea;  lest,  if  his  remains  should  at  any  time  be 
carried  back  to  Sparta,  his  countrymen  might 
look  upon  themselves  as  released  from  their 
oath,  as  much  as  if  he  had  returned  alive,  and 
been  induced  to  alter  his  form  of  government. 

CHAP.  XXIX. 

Of  Cyrus  the  Great. 

CYRUS  was  the  son  of  Cambyses,  either 
king  of  Persia,  or  a  man  of  the  first  rank  in 
that  country,  and  of  Mandane,  the  daughter  of 
Astyages  king  of  the  Me*Ies.  He  was  a 
prince  of  extraordinary  virtue,  wisdom,  and 
courage,  and  renowned  in  holy  writ  for  effect¬ 
ing  the  restoration  of  the  Israelites,  and  also 
for  being  the  founder  of  the  large  Persian 
empire.  In  his  infancy,  he  resided  in  Per¬ 
sia,  with  his  father,  and  received  an  education 
to  qualify  him  to  endure  hardships,  and  the 
incidental  fatigues  and  dangers  of  a  military 
life. 

AY  hen  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  he  was 
sent  for  into  Media,  by  Astyages,  his  grand¬ 
father,  where  he  remained  five  years,  and  from 
that  time  by  his  good  services  and  amiable 


58 


FLOWERS  OF 


manners,  secured  the  affections  of  his  grand'- 
father,  and  the  love  of  the  people. 

Cyrus,  in  the  fortieth  year  of  his  age,  was 
called  from  Persia  to  assist  his  uncle  Cyaxares, 
king  of  the  Medes,  in  his  war  against  the 
Babylonians,  and  their  ally  Croesus,  king  of 
Lydia.  This  war  lasted  twenty-one  years. 
Cyrus  commanded  the  united  army  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians.  His  conduct  was  glori¬ 
ous,  and  his  success  wonderful.  Croesus  was 
vanquished,  and  obliged  to  retreat  to  Sardis, 
where  he  was  blocked  up  by  a  close  siege. — 
In  this  distressful  state,  he  implored  the  assis¬ 
tance  of  the  powers  with  whom  he  had  formed 
an  alliance.  But  Cyrus  carried  on  the  attack 
with  such  spirit,  that  the  city  surrendered  be¬ 
fore  any  relief  could  be  afforded. 

Croesus  was  taken  captive,  and  condemned 
to  be  burnt  to  death.  When  the  funeral  pile 
was  erected,  and  the  victim  laid  on  it,  prepara¬ 
tory  to  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  he  was 
observed  to  exclaim  emphatically,  “O  Solon! 
Solon!”  which  induced  Cyrus  to  inquire  into 
the  cause  of  that  ejaculation.  Accordingly  he 
was  informed  that  Croesus  in  his  prosperity, 
having  displayed  his  treasures  to  Solon,  the 
famous  Athenian  philosopher,  demanded  of  him 
whether  he  did  not  esteem  him  happy  from  the 
possession  of  such  riches?  To  which  the  wise 
man  calmly  replied,  that  no  man  could  be  pro¬ 
nounced  happy  as  long  as  he  lived,  as  the  most 
prosperous  could  not  possibly  foresee  what 
would  happen  to  him  before  his  death;  and  that 


AIVCIEtfT  HISTORY. 


sy 

Croisus  now  feeling  the  force  of  this  remark, 
therefore  expressed  his  conviction  by  invoking 
the  name  of  his  sagacious  monitor.  This  cir¬ 
cumstance  wrought  so  effectually  on  Cyrus’ 
feelings,  and  inspired  him  with  such  sympa¬ 
thetic  compassion  for  Croesus,  that  he  ordered 
him  to  be  taken  from  the  pile,  and  not  only 
spared  his  life,  hut  made  an  ample  provision  for 
his  support,  and  afterwards  consulted  him  on 
the  most  important  of  his  concerns. 

CHAP.  XXX. 

Babylon  taken  by  Cyrus  in  the  year  before 

Christ,  538. 

CYRUS,  after  this  successful  expedition, 
continued  in  lesser  Asia,  till  he  had  made  all 
the  nations  in  those  parts  subject  to  his  power, 
and  then  proceeded  towards  Babylon. 

In  consequence  of  Cyrus’  hostile  opera- 
tions,  a  battle  ensued  between  the  Persians 
and  Assyrians.  The  latter  being  defeated, 
Belshazzar  was  blocked  up  in  Babylon.  Upon 
which  Cyrus  commenced  a  vigorous  siege 
against  that  city. 

This  enterprize  was  attended  with  great 
difficulty,  from  the  height  and  strength  of  the 
walls,  and  also  from  its  internal  defence.  It 
was,  besides,  amply  stored  with  provisions, 
which  caused  the  inhabitants  to  be  too  confi¬ 
dent  of  their  safety,  and  to  condemn  the  idea 
of  being  conquered. 


FLOWERS  OF 


OU 

This  delusive  belief  so  enthusiastically  pos 
sessed  the  Babylonians,  that  they  scoffed  at 
Cyrus  and  his  threats  from  the  top  of  their 
walls. 

As  Cyrus  found  that  the  regular  process  of 
assault  afforded  but  little  hopes  of  success,  he 
resolved  to  starve  the  inhabitants  into  compli¬ 
ance.  This  plan  of  operation  the  skilful  war¬ 
rior  pursued,  for  the  space  of  two  years,  but  at 
length  effected  the  conquest  by  the  following 
stratagem. 

As  a  festival  approached,  which  the  Babylo¬ 
nians  celebrated  with  licentious  revels,  and  in¬ 
ebriated  excesses,  during  the  whole  night,  Cy¬ 
rus  took  the  advantage  of  that  seasonable  junc¬ 
ture  to  attack  them  by  surprise. 

To  gain  access  into  the  city,  he  despatched 
a  party  of  his  troops,  to  break  the  banks  that 
divided  the  river  Euphrates  and  the  canal, 
which  turned  the  current  into  the  lake,*  so  that 
about  midnight,  the  river  was  almost  dry,  and 
consequently  fordable.  This  enabled  the  Per¬ 
sian  troops  to  enter  the  channel,  under  the  gui¬ 
dance  of  the  two  revolted  Babylonians,  Ga- 
dales  and  Gobrias. 

The  river  being  thus  drained,  the  army  pro¬ 
ceeded  in  its  course  to  the  gates  of  the  city, 
which  they  found  open;  for  the  Babylonians 
in  the  excess  of  their  drunkenness,  had  forgot¬ 
ten  to  shut  them  the  preceding  evening.  By 
this  fortunate  omission,  the  Persians  gained  an 
easy  entrance  into  the  city,  and  advanced  to  the 
palace. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


61 


When  the  guards  perceived  the  near  ap¬ 
proach  of  their  enemies.,  they  strove  to  defend 
themselves,  but  were  killed  in  the  attempt, 
which  caused  a  general  alarm.  In  consequence 
of  which,  the  gates  of  the  palace  were  opened, 
to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  the  commotion. — 
The  Persians  immediately  rushed  into  the  pa- 
laeej  where  they  found  the  king  with  his  sword 
drawn,  at  the  head  of  his  adherents.  The  king 
was  slain  in  the  conflict.  His  partisans  also 
fell  victims  to  the  warlike  resentment  of  the 
Persians, 


CHAP.  XXXI. 

Of  the  Miraculous  Circumstances  which  at¬ 
tended  the  Licentious  Festival  of  Belshaz¬ 
zar. 

THE  Scriptures  inform  us,  that  Belshaz¬ 
zar,  on  the  night  in  which  he  wras  slain,  and 
his  dominions  wrested  from  him,  made  a 
sumptuous  entertainment  for  his  lords  and 
counsellors,  wives  and  concubines. 

To  increase  the  magnificence  of  the  repast, 
Belshazzar  wantonly  profaned  the  gold  and 
silver  vessels  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem,  by  using  them  at  his  ban¬ 
quet,  and  permitting  his  unhallowed  gue'sts  to 
drink  out  of  them. 

This  impious  act  was  rebuked  by  the  Su¬ 
preme  Being,  in  an  awful  and  extraordinary 
manner.  In  the  midst  of  their  drinking  $nd 

F 


FLOWERS OE 


praising  their  own  idolatrous  gods,  there  was 
a  supernatural  appearance  of  a  hand,  writing 
a  sentence  on  the  wall.  This  miraculous  event 
was  perceived  by  the  king,  who  was  thereby 
so  exceedingly  alarmed,  that  “his  knees  smote 
one  against  another.”  He  cried  aloud  to  sum** 
mon  his  college  of  magicians,  astrologers,  and 
wise  men,  to  explain  the  writing;  but  they 
could  not  do  it. 

In  this  tremendous  juncture,  Nitocris,  the 
queen-mother,  entered,  and  besought  her  son 
to  send  for  Daniel,  whom  she  represented  a» 
equal  to  the  task  of  unfolding  the  deepest  mys¬ 
teries. 

When  the  prophet  came  into  the  king’s  pre¬ 
sence,  he  undauntedly  reproved  him  for  his  ma¬ 
nifold  and  heinous  transgressions,  and  assured 
him,  that  the  profanation  of  the  sacred  vessels 
of  the  Jewish  temple,  and  his  other  sins,  had 
produced  the  awful  sentence  on  the  wall,  the 
literal  interpretation  a)f  which  was,  “That  God 
had  numbered  his  kingdom  and  finished  it;  that 
his  dominions  were  to  be  taken  from  him,  and 
given  to  the  Medes  and  Persians.”  The  very 
night  after  Belshazzar  had  heard  these  awful 
tidings,  the  Medes  and  Persians  forced  their 
entrance  into  the  palace,  and  numbered  the 
king  with  the  slain. 

Th  us  ended  the  Babylonish  empire.  The 
city  of  Babylon,  by  being  the  metropolis  of  the 
kingdom,  became  also  the  seat  of  iniquity. — 
This  sun  of  splendor  was  scarcely  risen  to  its 
meridian  height,  before  its  lustre  was  sullied 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


63 


by  the  clomls  of  guilt,  which  obscured  its  glo- 
Fy,  and  caused  it  to  set  in  oblivion. 

After  Belshazzar’s  death,  in  order  to  pre¬ 
vent  the  further  effusion  of  blood,  Cyrus  or¬ 
dered  a  proclamation  to  be  made  in  the  city  of 
Babylon,  that  all  persons  should  be  safe,  who 
would  give  up  their  arms;  but  that  those  who 
refused  these  conditions  were  to  be  put  to  the 
sword.  These  terms  were  unanimously  ac¬ 
cepted,  and  Cyrus  thus  obtained  a  complete 
conquest  over  the  Babylonians,  after  a  warlike 
contest  of  twenty-one  years. 


CHAP.  XXXII. 


Of  Cur  us9  Edict  for  the  Return  of  the  Jews. 

ON  account  of  Daniel’s  interposition  in 
behalf  of  the  people  of  Israel  and  Judah,  Cy¬ 
rus  issued  a  decree  for  their  restoration  to 
liberty,  and  the  possession  of  their  native  land, 
with  authority  for  rebuilding  the  temple  of  Je¬ 
rusalem. 

Notwithstanding  Daniel  had  very  great  in¬ 
fluence  by  his  own  power  and  station,  he  had 
recourse  to  various  prophecies  to  confirm  his 
plea,  proving  from  divine  testimonials,  that  it 
was  the  declared  intention  of  the  Almighty,  to 
redeem  his  people  from  bondage,  after  a  cer¬ 
tain  period.  He  therefore  advised  Cyrus  to  be 
the  instrument,  under  God,  for  effecting  this 
great  purpose,  as  the  prophet  Isaiah  had  spo¬ 
ken  of  him  by  name,  150  years  before  he  was 


‘.FLOWERS  OF 


64 

born,  and  described  him  as  a  great  conqueror, 
and  restorer  of  the  people  of  Israel. 

These  arguments  co-operating  with  Cyrus’ 
desire  to  cultivate  the  land  of  Judea,  which,  in 
his  late  expedition,  he  found  in  a  desolate  state; 
from  motives  both  of  policy  and  goodness,  lie 
Issued  a  decree  to  release  the  Israelites  from 
bondage,  and  also  granted  them  authority  to 
settle  in  their  native  land,  and  rebuild  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem. 

In  due  order  of  time,  according  to  the  edict 
of  Cyrus,  the^people  assembled  to  be  freed 
from  captivity,  and  to  return  to  Judea.  The 
Israelites  collected,  on  this  joyful  occasion, 
amounted  to  the  number  of  fortv-two  thousand 
three  hundred  and  sixty  persons,  with  the  ad¬ 
dition  of  seven  thousand  three  hundred  and 
thirty-seven  servants,  and  inferior  people. 

In  this  general  rejease,  not  only  the  tribes 
of  Benjamin  and  Judah,  hut  numbers  of  the 
other  tribes,  availed  themselves  of  the  privi¬ 
lege  of  returning.  But  many  Jews  who  had 
settled  in  Chaldea,  and  other  Eastern  pro¬ 
vinces,  and  had  acquired  great  riches,  did  not 
choose  to  leave  their  accumulated  possessions, 
to  undertake  the  cultivation  of  a  desolated 
country. 


CHAP.  XXXIII. 

Of  the  Battle  of  Marathon. 

THE  history  of  Persia,  after  the  reign  of 
Cyrus,  who  died  in  the  year  before  Christ 


c 


ANCIENT  HISTORY.  65 

529,  offers  liftle,  considered  in  itself,  that  me¬ 
rits  our  regard.  But  when  combined  with 
that  of  Greece,  it  becomes  particularly  inter¬ 
esting. 

The  monarchs,  who  succeeded  Cyrus,  gave 
an  opportunity  to  the  Greeks,  to  exercise  those 
virtues,  which  the  freedom  of  their  govern¬ 
ment  had  created  and  confirmed.  Sparta  re¬ 
mained  under  the  influence  of  Lyeurgus*  insti¬ 
tutions.  Athens  had  just  recovered  from  the 
tyranny  of  the  Pisistratidse,  a  family  who  had 
trampled  on  the  laws  of  Solon,  and  usurped 
the  supreme  power. 

Such  was  their  situation,  when  the  lust  of 
universal  empire,  which  seldom  fails  to  torment 
the  breasts  of  tyrants,  led  Darius  to  send  forth 
his  numerous  armies  into  Greece. 

But  the  Persians  were  no  longer  those  invin¬ 
cible  soldiers,  who,  under  Cyrus,  had  conquer¬ 
ed  Asia.  Their  minds  were  enervated  by  lux- 
ury  and  servitude. 

Athens,  on  the  contrary,  teemed  with  great 
men,  whose  minds  were  nobly  animated  by  the 
late  recovery  of  their  freedom.  Miltiades,  on 
the  plains  of  Marathon,  with  ten  thousand 
Athenians,  overcame  the  Persian  army  of  a 
hundred  thousand  foot,  and  ten  thousand  ca* 
valry,  in  the  year  before  Christ  490. 

This  memorable  day  reflected  the  highest 
glory  on  Miltiades.  To  prevent  his  little  ar¬ 
my  from  being  surrounded  by  the  enemy,  he* 
drew  it  up,  with  a  mountain  in  the  rear,  ex¬ 
tended  his  front  as  much  as  possible,  placed 

f  2 


66 


FLOWERS  OE 


his  chief  strength  in  the  wings,  and  caused  a 
great  number  of  trees  to  be  cut  down,  to  keep 
off  the  enemy's  cavalry  from  charging  them  in 
flank. 

The  Athenians  rushed  forward  on-  the  Per¬ 
sians  like  so  many  furious  lions.  This  is  re¬ 
marked  to  have  been  the  first  time  they  ad¬ 
vanced  to  the  attack  running.  By  their  impc* 
tuosity,  they  opened  a  lane  through  the  enemy* 
and  supported  with  the  greatest  firmness  the 
charge  of  the  Persians. 

The  battle  at  first  was  fought  by  both  par¬ 
ties  with  great  valor  and  obstinacy.  But  the 
w  ings  of  the  Athenian  army,  w  here,  as  w  e  have 
just  said,  Miltiades  had  placed  his  chief 
strength,  attacking  the  main  body  of  the  ene¬ 
my  in  Hank,  threw  them  into  irretrievable  con¬ 
fusion.  Six  thousand  Persians  perished  on  the 
spot,  and  amongst  the  rest  the  traitor  Hippias, 
the  principal  occasion  of  the  war.  The  rest 
of  the  Persian  army  quickly  fled,  and  aban¬ 
doned  to  the  victors  their  camp,  full  of  riches. 

Thus  the  Athenians  obtained  a  victory,  more 
real  than  probable.  Animated  by  their  suc¬ 
cess,  they  pursued  the  Persians  to  their  very 
ships,  of  which  they  took  seven,  and  set  fire  to 
several  more. 

On  this  occasion,  one  Cynegirus,  an  Athe¬ 
nian,  after  performing  prodigies  of  valor  in  the 
field,  endeavored  to  prevent  a  particular  galley 
from  putting  to  sea,  and  for  that  purpose  held 
it  fast  with  his  right  hand.  When  his  right 
hand  was  cut  off,  he  then  seized  the  galley 
with  his  left$  which  being  likewise  cut  off,  he 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


67 


look  hold  of  it  with  his  teeth,  and  kept  it  so  till 
he  died. 

Another  soldier,  all  covered  over  with  the 
blood  of  the  enemy,  ran  to  announce  the  victo¬ 
ry  at  Athens,  and  after  crying  out,  “Rejoice, 
we  are  conquerors,”  fell  dead  in  the  presence 
of  his  fellow-citizens. 

The  Greeks,  in  this  engagement,  lost  only 
200  men.  Aristides  and  Themistooles  distin¬ 
guished  themselves  very  highly  in  the  battle; 
but  Miltiades  gained  the  chief  glory.  As  a 
reward  for  his  extraordinary  merits,  and  to 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  his  skill  and  brave¬ 
ry,  they  caused  a  picture  to  be  painted  by  Po- 
lygnotus,  one  of  their  most  celebrated  artists, 
where  Miltiades  was  represented  at  the  head 
of  the  ten  commanders,  exhorting  their  sol¬ 
diers,  and  setting  them  an  example  of  their 
duty.  This  picture  was  preserved  for  many 
ages,  with  other  paintings  of  the  best  masters, 
in  the  portico,  where  Zeno  afterwards  institu¬ 
ted  his  school  of  philosophy. 

CHAP.  XXXIY. 

Of  the  Injustice  of  the  Athenians  to  Miltiades » 

WHO  could  suspect  that  the  preserver  of 
his  country  should  become  the  victim  of  ingra¬ 
titude?  But  the  Athenians  were  always  so  dis¬ 
trustful,  that  the  least  suspicion  made  them 
forget  the  greatest  services. 

Miltiades  having  required  a  fleet  in  order  to 
punish  the  people  of  the  islands?  who  had  be- 


FLOWERS  OF 


68T 

trayed  the  common  interest,  attacked  Paros* 
But  after  a  long  siege,  in  which  lie  was 
wounded;  he  miscarried  in  the  enterprise,  and 
returned  to  Athens.  Whether,  as  Herodotus 
says,  personal  hatred  prompted  him  to  this 
undertaking,  or  that  the  people  could  not  re¬ 
proach  him  with  any  fault  but  his  misfortune, 
is  uncertain.  He  was,  however,  most  unjustly 
treated  as  a  criminal.  The  rash  inconsiderate 
multitude  immediately  condemned  him  to  death. 
Every  man  of  sense  was  ashamed  and  shocked 
at  the  injustice  and  cruelty  of  this  sentence. — 
In  vain  did  his  friends  constantly  remind  the 
people  of  his  behavior  at  Marathon.  Ail 
they  were  able  to  obtain,  was  a  commutation 
of  the  sentence  of  death,  to  a  fine  of  fifty  ta¬ 
lents.  Not  being  in  a  situation  to  discharge 
such  a  fine,  this  most  respectable  hero,  who 
had  refused  the  sovereign  power  in  Cherso- 
nesus,  that  he  might  devote  his  services  to  his 
country,  died  in  prison. 

Cimon,  his  son,  who  afterwards  made  so 
great  a  figure,  signalized  his  piety  on  this  oc¬ 
casion.  As  this  ungrateful  city  would  not 
permit  the  body  of  Miltiades  to  be  buried  un¬ 
til  all  his  debts  were  paid,  this  young  man 
employed  all  his  interest  among  his  friends, 
strained  his  utmost  credit  to  pay  the  fine,  and 
procured  his  father’s  body  an  honourable  inter- 
pent. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


69 


CHAP.  XXXV. 

Of  the  Invasion  of  Greece  hy  Xerxes. 

IN  ilie  year  before  Christ  480,  Xerxes  the 
son  of  Darius,  came  in  person  into  Greece 
with  an  immense  army,  which  according  to 
Herodotus,  amounted  to  two  millions  and  one 
hundred  thousand  men.  This  account  has 
been  justly  considered  by  some  ingenious  mo¬ 
dern  writers,  as  incredible.  The  truth,  cannot 
now  be  ascertained.  But  that  the  army  of 
Xerxes  was  extremely  numerous,  is  the  more 
probable,  from  the  great  extent  of  his  empire, 
and  from  the  absurd  practice  of  the  eastern 
nations  of  encumbering  their  camp  with  a  su¬ 
perfluous  multitude. 

In  order  more  readily  to  effect  his  passage,  . 
Xerxes  laid  a  bridge  across  the  Hellespont, 
where  it  was  about  a  mile  over  The  bridge 
being  broken  down  by  tempestuous  weather,  he 
cut  off  the  heads  of  the  workmen,  ordered  the 
sea  to  be  whipped,  and  cast  fetters  into  it,  to 
command  its  future  subjection.  He  afterwards 
affected  the  passage  by  a  new  bridge  of  boats, 
joined  together  by  chains,  and  landed  his  whole 
army  in  seven  days  and  nights. 

Demaratus,  one  of  the  kings  of  Lacedemon, 
had  been  for  some  time  banished,  because,  in 
his  country,  as  he  said  himself,  “the  law  was 
more  powerful  than  the  kings.”  He  sought 
an  asylum  in  Persia,  and  was  received  there 


70 


FLOWERS  OF 


with  particular  respect.  Xerxes  having  re* 
viewed  his  troops,  asked'  him  if  the  Greeks 
durst  wait  his  approach?  To  which  he  frankly 
replied,  especially  with  regard  to  the  Spartans, 
that  the  love  of  liberty  would  make  them  lend 
a  deaf  ear  to  every  proposal;  and  that,  though 
they  were  reduced  to  but  a  handful  of  men, 
they  would  not  decline  the  combat.  “They 
are  free,”  added  he;  “but  they  pay  an  implicit 
obedience  to  the  law;  and  that  law  commands 
them  to  conquer  or  die.”  The  event  verified 
his  assertion.  The  subsequent  narration  will 
shew  what  liberty  is  capable  of  executing 
against  despotic  power. 

CHAP.  XXXVI. 

Of  Themistocles ,  and  the  Battle  of  Thermopijlce . 

THE  Spartans  and  Athenians,  having  been 
informed  by  Demaratus  of  the  invasion  with 
which  they  were  threatened,  endeavored  to 
animate  all  the  Grecian  states  to  take  up  arms 
for  the  general  cause.  But  fear  in  some,  and 
a  jealousy  of  the  command  in  others,  detach¬ 
ed  almost  all  the  allies  from  the  confederacy. 
They  were  not,  however,  less  disposed  to  make 
a  vigorous  defence.  The  Athenians  made 
haste  to  choose  their  general.  An  arrogant 
avaricious  orator,  whose  name  was  Epicydes, 
set  himself  up  as  a  rival  of  Themistocles, 
and  as  the  people  were  always  easily  deceived, 
was  upon  the  point  of  being  preferred,  when 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


71 


Fhemistoeles,  knowing  his  weak  side,  loaded 
him  with  presents,  and  prevailed  with  him  to 
desert,  and  thus  got  himself  appointed  to  the 
command.  The  public  good  required  it.  “In 
such  situations,”  says  the  Abbe  Millot,  “a  man 
of  superior  abilities,  without  transgressing  the 
bounds  of  modesty,  may  do  himself  justice, 
and  employ  all  his  influence  to  procure  an  em¬ 
ployment,  where  honor  is  surrounded  with 
danger.” 

At  last  Xerxes  arrived  at  Thermopylae,  a 
very  narrow  passage,  where  he  was  met  by 
four  thousand  men,  under  the  command  of 
Leonidas,  king  of  Sparta.  The  Persian  mo¬ 
narch  having  in  vain  attempted  to  corrupt  him, 
wrote  to  him  in  the  style  of  a  master,  com¬ 
manding  him  to  lay  down  his  arms.  To 
which  Leonidas  replied  like  a  Spartan,  “Come 
and  take  them.” 

Then  the  Medes  advanced  against  the 
Greeks,  but  being  unable  to  sustain  their  at¬ 
tack,  were  obliged  to  retreat.  The  troop  of 
Persians,  distinguished  by  the  name  of  im mor¬ 
tal,  next  charged  the  Greeks,  and  fought  with 
great  valor,  so  that  the  pass  was  choaked  up 
with  the  dead. 

Whilst  the  best  troops  of  Xerxes  were  thus 
sacrificed  to  the  Spartan  valor,  an  inhabitant 
of  the  country  having  discovered  to  the  Per¬ 
sians  a  secret  path  conducting  to  an  eminence 
that  commanded  the  pass,  a  large  detachment 
was  sent  to  take  possession  of  it. 

Leonidas  receiving  intelligence  that  the  tops 


FLOWERS  OF 


of  the  rocks  forming  the  pass,  were  occupied 
*by  20,000  Persian  troops,  whose  darts  must 
soon  overwhelm  him  and  his  small  party,  in- 
treated  the  greatest  part  of  his  men  to  retire, 
and  reserve  themselves  for  a  more  advanta¬ 
geous  opportunity  of  serving  their  country, 
while  he  himself,  with  about  300  Spartans  and 
a  few  Thespians,  would  maintain  the  post  to  the 
last  drop  of  their  blood. 

The  rest  having  accordingly  departed, 
“Come,  my  friends/’  said  Leonidas,  “let  us 
dine  cheerfully  in  the  hope  of  supping  to¬ 
gether  in  the  other  world.”  His  brave  com¬ 
panions,  who  are  superior  to  all  praise;  thus 
encouraged  by  the  example  of  their  c_.ief* 
thought  of  nothing  now  but  how  to  sell  their 
lives  as  dear  as  possible,  believing  it  incum¬ 
bent  on  them,  as  the  leading  people  of  Greece, 
to  devote  themselves  to  certain  death,  thereby 
to  convince  the  Persians  how  much  it  must 
cost  them  to  reduce  a  free  people  to  slavery. 

In  the  dead  of  night,  this  heroic  troop  ad¬ 
vanced  directly  forwards  to  the  tent  of  the 
king,  penetrated  to  the  middle  of  the  Persian 
camp,  cut  off  all  that  came  in  their  way,  and 
spread  the  most  dreadful  consternation  among 
the  enemy. 

^  But  day-light  at  last  discovering  them  dis¬ 
tinctly  to  the  Persians,  they  are  immediately 
surrounded,  and  being  rather  overwhelmed 
than  conquered,  breathe  their  last  above  heaps 
of  slaughtered  enemies,  leaving  to  after-ages, 
an  example  of  intrepidity  before  unknown,  and 
hardly  to  be  paralelled  in  history. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY". 


The  Persians  are  said  to  have  lost  upwards 
of  20,000  men  in  this  engagement,  and  among 
the  rest  the  two  brothers  of  Xerxes. 

To  the  memorv  of  these  brave  defenders  of 

* 

Greece,  a  superb  monument  was  afterwards 
erected,  bearing  two  inscriptions,  the  one  in 
honor  of  all  those  who  had  fallen  on  that  oc¬ 
casion,  importing  that  an  army  of  4000  Pelo¬ 
ponnesian  Greeks  had,  in  that  place,  stopped 
the  whole  Persian  force;  the  other  in  honor  of 
Leonidas  and  his  300  Spartans,  expressed  with 
the  most  admirable  simplicity:  “Go,  passenger, 
tell  at  Sparta  that  we  died  here  in  obedience  to 
her  1;  ws.” 

The  famous  action  at  Thermopylse  contribu¬ 
ted  very  highly  to  the  subsequent  advantages 
obtained  by  the  Greeks.  For  the  Persians, 
astonished  at  so  striking  an  instance  of  despe¬ 
rate  valor,  thence  concluded,  that  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  subdue  a  nation  of  such  undaunted 
resolution;  and  the  Greeks  likewise  perceived 
from  the  same  example,  that  valor  and  disci¬ 
pline  are  capable  of  vanquishing  the  greatest 
multitude,  and  that  therefore  it  was  possible  to 
overcome  the  Persians. 

CHAP.  XXXVII. 

Of  the  battles  of  Sal  amis,  Platen  and  My  c  ale 9 
and  the  final  expulsion  of  the  Persians  from 
Greece . 

XERXES,  though  he  had  forced  his  pas- 
G 


74 


FLOWERS  OF 


sage  through  the  straights  of  Thermopylae, 
was  more  inclined  to  push  his  fortune  by  sea. 
In  this  enterprise  he  was  also  bravely  resisted 
by  the  Grecians  at  Artemesium,  a  seaport  in 
Euboea.  But,  notwithstanding  the  singular 
resolution  and  vigor  of  the  Grecians  both  by 
sea  and  land,  Xerxes,  three  months  after  his 
passage  into  Europe,  made  himself  master  of 
Athens,  and  laid  it  in  ashes. 

These  storms,  however,  were  soon  blown 
over;  and  the  Grecians,  animated  by  the  wis¬ 
dom  and  courage  of  Themistocles  and  Aris¬ 
tides,  obtained  a  complete  victory  over  the 
Persian  fleet  at  Salamis,  an  island  near  the 
coast  of  Attica. 

On  this  occasion,  Themistocles  gave  a  proof 
of  his  extraordinary  moderation  and  coolness 
of  temper.  For  while  with  much  warmth  he 
was  maintaining  his  opinion,  of  the  improprie¬ 
ty  of  quitting  the  straits  at  Salamis,  against 
Eurybiades,  who  was  a  man  of  a  very  choleric 
disposition,  the  latter  flew  in  a  passion,  and 
lifted  up  his  cane  to  strike  him.  Themisto¬ 
cles  called  out  to  him,  “Strike,  but  hear  me,” 
His  eloquence  and  firmness  at  last  prevailed, 
and  the  Greeks  saw  that  it  was  most  advisable 
for  them,  as  being  extremely  inferior  to  the 
enemy  in  number,  as  well  as  in  the  size  of  their 
ships,  to  fight  them  in  such  a  narrow  strait  as 
that  of  Salamis,  where  the  enemy  could  not 
bring  all  their  fleet  into  action;  and  that  it  was 
of  the  highest  importance  to  avail  themselves 
of  their  present  situation. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


75 


The  battle  of  Salamis,  like  that  of  Mara¬ 
thon,  shewed  that  an  excellent  commander  is 
alone  almost  equivalent  to  an  army;  and  The- 
mistocles,  without  having  the  title,  yet  dis¬ 
charged  the  duties.  He  knew  how  to  take 
advantage  of  the  wind,  and  drew  up  the  fleet  in 
excellent  order.  The  Persian  ships  were  heavy, 
and  too  numerous  to  act  in  such  a  narrow 
strait,  so  that  they  ran  into  confusion,  and 
could  not  resist  the  Greeks,  who,  with  less 
than  four  hundred  sail,  dispersed  a  naval  ar¬ 
mament,  said  to  have  consisted  of  more  than 
two  thousand. 

On  this  turn  of  fortune,  Xerxes  with  great 
precipitation  left  Greece,  and  retired  to  Sardis 
in  Lydia,  leaving  the  command  of  the  army  to 
his  general  Mardonius. 

After  the  retreat  of  Xerxes,  Mardonius  took 
up  his  quarters  in  Thessaly,  and  the  coniines 
of  Macedonia.  He  there  collected  an  army  of 
350,000  men,  prepared  to  prosecute  the  war 
with  vigor,  and  entered  into  Athens,  ten 
months  after  Xerxes  had  first  taken  it.  But 
this  army  was  entirely  defeated  at  the  battle  of 
Platea.  Mardonius  himself  was  killed;  and  it 
i  related,  that  of  350,000  Persians,  who  came 
into  the  field,  there  escaped  scarce  3,000,  be¬ 
sides  40,000  who  fled.  Thus  the  Grecians  were 
freed  from  the  invasion  of  an  army,  which  for 
two  years  had  overrun  their  country,  and 
Athens  was  again  restored  to  her  ancient  gov¬ 
ernment  and  renown. 

On  the  same  day,  the  Grecians  burnt  the 


76 


FLOWERS  OF 


Persian  fleet,  in  the  harbor  of  Mycale,  a  pro¬ 
montory  of  Ionia.  Upon  this  double  defeat, 
Xerxes  finding  it  impossible  to  retrieve  so  great 
misfortunes,  retired  farther  into  the  country, 
and  leading  a  life  of  indolence  and  luxury,  was 
at  last  murdered  by  his  own  soldiers. 

He  was  succeeded  in  the  throne  of  Persia  by 
his  son  Artaxerxes. 

It  may  be  here  proper  to  notice  what  Mr. 
Stanyan  says  on  this  event,  “That  whatever 
successful  attempts  Xerxes,  or  bis  successors, 
made  in  other  parts,  the  Persians,  after  this 
defeat  at  Mycale,  did  never  act  offensively 
against  Greece.  And  though  the  Persian  king¬ 
dom  continued  many  years  after,  and  with  the 
character  of  the  greatest  empire  of  the  known 
world,  her  greatness  consisted  rather  in  riches, 
and  extent  of  territory,  than  any  memorable 
achievements;  and  the  continuance  of  it  was 
chiefly  owing  to  those  intestine  broils  among 
the  Greeks,  which  diverted  them  from  pushing 
ou  their  conquests  in  Asia.” 


CHAP.  XXXVIII. 

Of  the  Battle  of  Cheroncta ,  by  which  Philip  of 
Macedon  made  himself  master  of  Greece. 

THOUGH  the  Persian  war  concluded  glo 
riously  for  Greece,  it  is,  in  a  great  measure, 
to  this  war,  that  the  subsequent  misfortunes  of 
that  nation  are  to  be  attributed.  It  was  not 
the  loss  of  so  many  brave  men,  but  the  acqui* 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


77 


sition  of  such  an  immensity  of  Persian  wealthy 
it  was  not  their  enduring  so  many  hardships  in 
the  course  of  the  war.  but  their  connexion 
with  the  Persians  after  the  conclusion  of  it* 
which  subverted  the  Grecian  establishments* 
and  ruined  the  most  virtuous  confederacy  that 
ever  existed  upon  earth. 

The  Greeks  became  haughty  after  their  vic¬ 
tories.  Being  delivered  from  their  common 
enemy,  they  began  to  quarrel  with  one  ano* 
ther.  Their  quarrels  were  fomented  by  Per¬ 
sian  gold,  of  w  hich  they  had  acquired  enough 
to  make  them  desirous  of  more.  Hence  pro¬ 
ceeded  the  famous  Peloponnesian  war,  in  which 
the  Athenians  and  Lacedemonians  acted  as 
principals,  and  drew  after  them  the  other  states 
of  Greece. 

They  continued  to  weaken  themselves  by 
these  intestine  divisions,  till  Philip,  king  of 
Macedon,  (a  country  till  this  time  little  known, 
but  which,  by  the  active  and  crafty  genius  of 
this  prince,  became  important  and  powerful,) 
rendered  himself  the  absolute  master  of  Greece, 
by  the  battle  of  Cheromea,  in  the  year  before 
Christ  338. 

Philip  entered  Boetia  With  an  army  of 
30,000  foot,  and  2,000  horse.  His  troops  were 
not  much  more  numerous  than  those  of  the 
Greeks;  but  they  were  much  better  disciplined 
and  commanded.  The  bravery  of  the  soldiers 
were  nearly  equal  on  both  sides;  and  the  Athe¬ 
nians  wanted  nothing  but  good  generals.  For 
the  faction  of  Chares  raised  him  to  the  chief 

g  % 


78 


FLOWERS  OF 


command;  and  he  had  got  for  colleague,  Lysi- 
cles,  distinguished  by  his  rashness  alone.  Thus 
the  only  Athenian  worthy  of  commanding, 
namely  Phoeion,  was  altogether  excluded  from 
the  office.  Such  are  the  capital  errors,  which 
in  every  state  occasion  the  loss  of  battles,  and 
all  the  misfortunes  that  thence  ensue. 

In  this  engagement,  Philip  commanded  the 
right  wing  of  the  Macedonian  army;  and  his 
son  Alexander,  assisted  by  the  most  experien¬ 
ced  officers,  the  left.  The  battle  was  fought 
with  great  obstinacy,  and  victory  remained 
long  doubtful. 

Alexander  shewed  himself  Worthy  of  the 
command,  then  entrusted  to  him  for  the  first 
time;  and  by  his  valor  and  prudence  gave  signs 
of  what  he  should  become  in  the  end.  Falling 
with  great  impetuosity  upou  the  Thebans,  he 
broke  and  put  to  fight  their  sacred  battalion, 
which  was  the  flower  of  their  army. 

Philip,  on  the  other  hand,  gained  at  first 
some  little  advantage  over  the  Athenians;  but 
these  quickly  repairing  the  disorder,  in  their 
turn  repulsed  the  Macedonians. 

The  imprudence,  however,  of  Lysieles,  oc¬ 
casioned  their  ruin;  for  thinking  himself  vic¬ 
torious,  after  having  broken  the  centre  of  the 
Macedonians,  instead  of  attacking  them  in 
flank,  he  pursued  the  fugitives  with  a  blind 
impetuosity.  Philip  perceived,  and  availed 
himself  of  his  error*  Rallying  the  wings  of  his 
phalanx  on  a  small  eminence,  he  rushed  with 
great  fury  on  the  rear  of  the  Athenians,  and 
put  them  to  flight. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


79 


Here  Demosthenes  furnished  a  striking 
proof,  that  the  same  person  seldom  possesses 
all  qualifications  in  an  equal  degree.  He  threw 
away  his  arms,  and  betook  himself  to  flight. 

Of  the  Athenians,  1.000  were  slain, and  2,000 
taken  prisoners;  but  the  loss  of  the  Thebans 
was  much  greater. 

Philip,  transported  with  joy  at  this  victory* 
erected  a  trophy,  sacrificed  to  the  gods,  and 
gave  presents  to  his  officers.  It  is  said,  that 
having  next  day  given  a  great  entertainment, 
the  wine  raised  him  to  such  an  extravagant 
pitch  of  joy,  that  he  ran  to  the  field  of  battle, 
insulted  the  dead  bodies  of  his  enemies,  and 
fell  a  dancing,  singing  at  the  same  time  the 
beginning  of  the  decree  drawn  up  by  Demos¬ 
thenes.  It  is  likewise  reported,  that  the  orator 
Demades,  being  one  of  the  prisoners,  said  to 
him  with  a  generous  freedom,  “Since  fortune 
has  given  you  the  part  of  Agamemnon,  are 
you  not  ashamed  to  play  that  of  Thersites?” 
With  this  freedom  of  Demades,  it  is  added,  the 
conqueror  was  not  displeased. 

CHAP.  XXXIX. 

Of  Demosthenes 9  Influence  over  the  Athenians. 

THE  Athenians,  after  this  terrible  disaster, 
instead  of  testifying  any  resentment  against 
Demosthenes,  who  If  ad  advised  them  to  unikr- 
take  the  war,  still  followed  his  counsels.  The 
people,  convinced  of  the  integrity  of  Ills  in- 


80 


FLOWERS  O* 


tendons,  acquitted  him  with  honor,  preserved 
the  highest  esteem  for  him,  and  loaded  him 
with  still  greater  marks  of  their  favor  and 
confidence.  Guards  were  posted,  and  fortifi¬ 
cations  repaired  by  his  advice.  He  was 
pitched  upon  to  pronounce  the  funeral  oration 
of  the  brave  men  who  had  fallen  at  Cheronsea; 
and  the  Athenians  inclosed  tlieir  bones  in  a 
magnificent  monument,  with  an  inscription, 
importing  that  they  had  fallen  in  the  cause  of 
their  country. 

It  may  he  here  remarked,  that  these  funeral 
orations,  and  the  other  /public  marks  of  dis¬ 
tinction  bestowed  on  those  who  had  died  in 
battle,  were,  in  the  flourishing  times  of  the 
republic,  admirably  calculated  to  inspire  the 
Athenian  youth  with  an  ardent  desire  of  mili¬ 
tary  glory.  The  sons  of  those  who  were  slain 
in  fight,  were  produced  at  the  first  feast  cele¬ 
brated  after  such  fight,  clothed  in  complete 
armor,  and  attended  by  a  herald,  who  made  a 
public  proclamation  in  the  following  terms: — - 
“These  young  orphans,  whom  a  premature 
death  in  the  service  of  the  state,  has  deprived 
of  their  father,  have  found  in  the  people  a 
common  father,  who  charge  themselves  with 
the  care  of  them,  till  they  arrive  at  the  age  of 
manhood;  and  they  are  respectfully  invited 
to  aspire  at  the  first  employments  of  the  com¬ 
monwealth.’’ 

Naturally  fond  of  affecting  scenes,  we  hurry 
to  the  theatre,  to  enjoy  the  moving  representa¬ 
tions  there  offered  to  our  view;  of  which, 


iNCi’ENT  HISTORY. 


SI 

however,  the  greatest  part  is  the  mere  fruit  of 
poetical  fancy.  But  if  we  would  have  real 
objects  of  this  kind  not  produced  hy  the  mise¬ 
rable  effects  of  irregular  passions,  but  arising 
from  the  noblest  principles  of  human  nature, 
we  must  have  recourse  to  history.  Can  there 
possibly  be  a  more  affecting  scene,  than  that 
now  described  among  the  Athenians? 

The  people  further  committed  to  Demos¬ 
thenes  the  charge  of  procuring  provisions  for 
the  city;  and  decreed  him  a  crown  of  gold 
for  having  furnished  a  sum  of  money  to  repair 
the  walls.  The  sentence  of  Ctesiphon,  de¬ 
creeing  this  crown  to  Demosthenes,  having 
been  arraigned  by  Eschines,  the  cause  was 
tried  with  great  solemnity,  and  a  vast  con¬ 
course  of  people  assembled  from  all  quarters, 
to  hear  this  important  dispute  between  two  so 
celebrated  orators.  Demosthenes  shone  par¬ 
ticularly  in  his  answers  to  the  invectives  of 
Eschines,  on  the  subject  of  the  defeat  at 
Cheromea.  He  told  the  audience  that  he  was 
by  no  means  answerable  for  that  event,  which, 
like  every  other,  was  in  the  power  of  the  Su¬ 
preme  Being,  who  disposed  of  victory  at  his 
pleasure. 

Then  he  addressed  himself  to  the  Athe¬ 
nians,  in  a  st^le  of  rhetoric  the  most  figurative 
and  bold  that  is  any  where  to  he  met  with. 
“No,  Athenians,  I  swear  to  you  by  the  manes  of 
those  brave  citizens,  who  sacrificed  their  lives 
for  the  liberty  of  their  country,  on  land  at 
Marathon  and  Platea,  on  sea  at  Salamis  and 


82 


FLOWERS  OF 


Artemisium,  ami  by  many  others,  who,  though 
unsuccessful  in  the  same  glorious  cause,  have 
been  honored  by  the  republic  with  the  solemn 
rites  of  burial,  not  by  those  alone  who 
were  fortunate  and  victorious,  that  you  have 
acted  as  you  ought.” 

Though  the  Macedonian  faction  was  now 
become  very  powerful  at  Athens,  Escliines 
nevertheless  failed,  was  even  punished  with 
banishment,  and  obliged  to  take  refuge  at 
Rhodes. 

On  this  occasion,  Demosthenes  behaved  to 
his  rival  with  great  generosity;  and  as  he  was 
departing,  forced  him  to  accept  a  considerable 
sum  of  money.  Escliines  was  so  struck  with 
his  behavior,  that  he  burst  out  into  this  excla¬ 
mation,  “How  much,”  said  he,  “must  1  re¬ 
gret  the  loss  of  a  country,  where  I  leave  such 
an  enemy,  that  I  despair  of  finding  any  where 
else  so  generous  a  friend!” 

On  arriving  at  Rhodes,  he  opened  a  school 
for  eloquence,  and  began  with  reciting  his  ora¬ 
tion  against  Demosthenes,  which  was  very 
highly  commended  by  his  audience.  But  ha¬ 
ving  proceeded  to  recite  that  made  in  answer 
to  it  by  Demosthenes,  nothing  was  heard  but 
a  general  shout  of  applause;  insomuch  that 
Escliines  could  not  refrain  from  crying  out, 
“Ah!  what  would  you  have  thought  of  it, 
had  you  heard  him  deliver  it  himself  r”  A 
saying  that  did  as  much  honor  to  the  candor 
of  the  one,  as  to  the  eloquence  of  the  other. 
Eschines  was  very  much  esteemed  as  an 


ANCIENT  IIISTORT. 


85 


orator  by  the  Athenians,  who  called  those  three 
discourses  of  his  that  yet  remain,  by  the  name 
of  the  three  graces. 

CHAP.  XL. 

Anecdotes  of  King  Philip . 

AMONG  the  great  number  of  extraordi¬ 
nary  anecdotes  which  are  related  of  Philip,  the 
following  are  the  most  worthy  of  being  remem¬ 
bered. 

One  of  his  domestics,  every  morning  before 
he  gave*  audience,  by  his  express  orders,  re¬ 
peated  to  him,  “Remember,  sir,  that  you  are  a 
mortal.” 

Knowing  the  value  of  truth,  even  when  his 
vanity  was  hurt  by  it,  he  said,  that  he  was 
much  obliged  to  the  Athenian  orators,  who, 
by  their  abuse,  had  taught  him  to  correct  his 
errors. 

A  prisoner,  who  was  just  going  to  be  sold, 
having  boldly  reproached  him;  “Let  that  man 
be  set  at  liberty,”  said  he,  “I  did  know  that  he 
was  one  of  my  friends.” 

When  he  was  desired  to  dismiss  from  his 

I 

service  a  worthy  man  who  had  censured  him; 
“Let  us  examine  first,”  said  he,  “whether  we 
have  not  given  him  reason  for  upbraiding  us.” 
This  bold  censurer  was  poor,  and  Philip  re¬ 
lieved  his  wants,  when  his  reproaches  were 
immediately  converted  into  praise.  Upon  this 
Philip  very  judiciously  observed,  “That  it  de- 


S* 


FLOWERS  OF 


pended  upon  princes  themselves  whether  the} 
were  loved  or  hated,”  We  may  add  too,  that 
to  make  themselves  beloved,  is  of  all  tilings 
the  most  easy. 

One  day,  as  lie  was  returning  from  a  feast, 
a  woman  having  begged  of  him  to  decide  her 
cause,  he  had  it  plead  on  the  spot,  and  gave 
sentence  against  her.  “I  appeal  from  the  judg¬ 
ment,”  cried  the  woman.  “How!  from  your 
king?”  answered  Philip;  “and  to  whom  do 
you  appeal?”  “To  Philip  when  fasting,”  re¬ 
plied  ihe  woman.  Philip,  struck  with  the  words 
of  (he  woman,  reviewed  the  cause,  and  altered 
his  judgment. 

Another  woman  of  low  rank  in  life,  having 
been  put  off  from  day  to  day,  on  pretence  that 
he  had  not  leisure  to  give  her  audience,  at  last 
said  to  him,  “Cease  then  to  be  a  king.”  He 
immediately  gratified  her,  and  from  that  time 
forward  was  more  attentive  to  the  first  duty  of 
royalty. 

He  had  experienced  the  advantages  of  a  good 
education  too  well,  to  let  him  be  inattentive 
in  procuring  the  same  for  his  son,  who  was 
born  with  the  happiest  dispositions.  He  consi¬ 
dered  the  character  of  being  a  great  warrior, 
only  in  a  subordinate  rank,  and  wished  to  store 
his  mind  with  the  most  profound  knowledge. — 
Aristotle,  the  greatest  philosopher  of  the  age, 
was  to  be  the  instructor  of  Alexander,  and 
Philip  thought  himself  happy  when  that  prince* 
was  born,  if  he  could  secure  for  him  such  a 
master.  ■ 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


85 


The  letter  which  he  wrote  to  the  philoso¬ 
pher,  may  serve  as  a  lesson  to  crowned  heads. 
“I  have  a  son,”  said  he,  “for  whom  I  am  not 
go  thankful  to  the  gods,  as  for  their  having 
given  him  to  me  in  the  time  of  Aristotle.  I 
flatter  myself  with  the  hope  of  your  making 
him  worthy  to  succeed  me,  and  to  reign  in 
Macedonia.” 

Alexander  was  the  son  of  Olympias,  who 
was  afterwards  divorced;  and  when  the  other 
sons  of  Philip  were  one  day  questioning  his 
right  to  the  succession,  he  received  the  follow¬ 
ing  advice  from  his  father:  “Have  patience, 
my  son,  and  conduct  yourself  in  such  a  man-  . 
ner,  before  your  brothers,  that  it  may  seem, 
that  the  crown  descends  to  you,  rather  on  ac¬ 
count  of  your  own  merit,  than  from  my  choice.** 

CHAP.  XLI. 

Character  of  Philip . 

HE  was  a  prince  of  the  most  ambitious  cha¬ 
racter,  and  persisted,  without  any  deviation, 
and  with  singular  perseverance,  in  the  prose¬ 
cution  of  all  his  schemes.  This  is  particular¬ 
ly  visible  in  his  conduct  with  respect  to  Greece. 
By  his  own  account,  the  happiness  of  nations, 
the  reparation  of  injuries,  aud  the  destruction 
of  tyranny,  were  the  sole  motives  of  his  cow- 
duct. 

But,  notwithstanding  those  professions,  he 
was  continually  aiming,  by  imperceptible 

H 


86 


FLOWERS  OF 


means,  at  some  private  design.  He  was  im¬ 
penetrable  as  to  bis  views  and  intentions, 
and  never  made  use  of  confidants.  Fruitful 
in  resources,  be  seldom  had  recourse  to  force, 
till  add  re  ss  failed  him.  But  when  once  enga¬ 
ged  in  war,  be  acted  with  the  utmost  diligence, 
vigor,  and  intrepidity,  and  was  inferior  to  no 
commander  of  bis  time,  either  for  bravery  or 
conduct. 

He  rendered  his  soldiers  the  best  in  Greece, 
was  particularly  skilful  in  conciliating  their  af¬ 
fection  by  a  familiar  and  complaisant  behavior, 
and  in  maintaining  at  the  same  time,  his  au¬ 
thority  over  them  in  full  force. 

Besides  the  •accomplishments  already  men¬ 
tioned,  Philip  had  acquired  a  stock  of  the  most 
valuable  and  finest  parts  of  learning,  and  wrote 
and  spoke  with  equal  dignity  and  ease.  He 
was  a  consummate  politician,  always  seizing 
the  most  favorable  moment  for  attacking  his 
enemies,  availing  himself  of  their  weakness 
and  domestic  troubles,  and  by  a  liberal  distri¬ 
bution  of  gold,  bringing  over  to  his  interest 
some  of  the  leading  men  in  every  state.  He 
readily  granted  his  assistance  to  those  who  de¬ 
sired  it,  and  labored  to  weaken  the  strongest. 

But  the  defects  of  this  prince’s  character, 
perhaps  counterbalance  bis  great  parts.  For, 
though  a  most  artful  politician,  the  means  he 
employed  were  often  contrary  to  justice  and 
good  faith.  He  seldom  hesitated  to  deceive 
those  with  whom  he  treated;  and  was  not  very 
scrupulous  about  practising  fraud,  deceit,  per- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


8? 


fitly,  op  any  other  crime,  provided  it  might 
contribute  to  the  advancement  of  his  power. 

Those  of  the  learned,  who  have  studied 
with  most  accuracy  the  merits  of  the  father 
and  the  son,  are  of  opinion,  that  the  extent  of 
Alexander’s  conquests  does  not  equal  the  difficul¬ 
ty  of  those  of  Philip;  and  that  it  was  more  easy 
for  the  former  to  subdue  Asia  with  the  assist¬ 
ance  of  the  Greeks,  than  for  the  latter  to  de¬ 
stroy  the  power  of  the  Greeks,  with  Macedo¬ 
nian  strength  alone. 

“It  must  be  allowed,”  says  a  judicious  wri¬ 
ter,  “that  at  first  sight  we  are  inclined  to  give 
the  preference  to  Alexander,  the  splendor  of 
whose  conquests  outshines  that  of  Philip’s: 
hut  on  a  more  narrow  inspection,  and  on  balanc¬ 
ing  the  obstacles  that  lay  in  the  way  of  the 
one  against  the  circumstances  that  favored  the 
success  of  the  other,  we  shall  be  of  opinion 
with  Cicero,  that  the  son  was  a  great  conque- 
ror,  but  that  the  father  was  a  great  mam” 

CHAP.  XLII. 

Of  Alexander  the  Great . 

ALEXANDER  was  born  at  Pella,  a  town 
of  Macedonia,  in  the  year  before  Christ  356. 
From  his  infancy,  he,  on  several  occasions, 
gave  proofs  of  an  extraordinary  loftiness  of 
sentiment.  Being  asked  one  day  by  his  friends, 
whether  he  would  not  choose  to  contend  in  the 
foot  races  at  the  Olympic  games,  (for  he  was 
extremely  swift  of  foot,)  he  answered,  that  he 


88 


FLOWERS  OF 


would,  “if  kings  were  to  be  his  competitors.75 
On  receiving  the  news  of  a  city  being  taken, 
or  a  battle  won  by  his  father,  so  far  from  dis¬ 
covering  any  signs  of  joy,  he  used  to  appear 
melancholy  and  disconsolate.  “My  friends,55 
he  would  say,  “my  father  will  accomplish 
every  thing,  and  will  leave  me  nothing  to  do.55 

In  every  branch  of  learning,  which  it  was 
thought  necessary  to  teach  him,  he  made 
astonishing  progress.  We  have  already  told 
that  Philip  gave  him  for  preceptor  the  famous 
Aristotle.  Alexander  conceived  as  high  an 
esteem  for  that  illustrious  philosopher  as  Phi¬ 
lip  entertained  for  him.  He  went  farther,  and 
even  honored  him  as  father,  saying,  that  his 
natural  father  had  given  him  existence,  but 
that  his  second  father  had  taught  him  to  make 
the  proper  use  of  his  existence.  Under  such 
a  master,  the  happy  genius  of  Alexander  made 
the  most  rapid  progress,  and  soon  imbibed  the 
principles  of  the  whole  circle  of  philosophy. 

Plutarch  tells  us,  that  he  loved  to  read  and 
converse  with  men  of  learning,  two  admirable 
sources  of  happiness  to  a  prince,  and  not  only 
capable  of  preserving  him  from  numberless 
misfortunes,  but  of  instructing  him  in  the  art 
of  reigning. 

On  the  fine  arts,  such  as  music,  painting  and 
sculpture,  he  bestowed  but  a  cursory  attention, 
sufficient  to  give  him  au  idea  of  their  value 
and  their  use;  which  in  such  matters,  is  all 
that  a  prince  ought  to  know.  He  was  of  an 
active  impetuous  disposition,  and  very  tena¬ 
cious  of  his  opinion. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


89 


He  very  early  became  the  most  expert  horse¬ 
man  in  his  father’s  court;  and  was  the  only 
person  who  dared  to  hack  the  famous  Buce¬ 
phalus,  a  very  fine  horse,  sent  as  a  present  to 
Philip,  but  so  fiery  and  high-mettled,  that  they 
despaired  to  be  able  to  break  him.  It  was  on 
this  occasion,  that  Philip  seeing  Alexander  re¬ 
tunring  from  finishing  the  course,  in  which  he 
had  backed  his  ungovernable  horse,  cried  out 
to  him  in  a  rapture,  “Seek,  my  son,  another 
kingdom;  Macedonia  is  not  worthy  to  contain 
you.”  It  is  said  that  this  horse  would  after¬ 
wards  suffer  no  person  but  Alexander  to  mount 
him;  and  that  he  leaned  down  on  his  knees  to 
receive  him  on  his  back;  that  after  being  mor¬ 
tally  wounded  in  the  battle  against  Porus,  he 
saved  the  life  of  Alexander,  by  carrying  him 
through  the  crowd  of  enemies  that  surrounded 
him,  and  then  expired;  that  Alexander  shed 
tears  for  his  death,  and,  in  memory  of  him, 
built  on  the  banks  of  the  Hydaspis  a  city, 
which,  after  him,  he  called  Buceplialia. 

Alexander  mounted  the  throne  of  Macedo¬ 
nia  at  the  age  of  twenty  years;  and  in  the  same 
year  that  Darius  Codamannus  mounted  that  of 
Persia.  After  performing  the  ceremonies  of 
his  father’s  funeral,  Alexander  applied  his 
attention  to  secure  the  conquests  of  Philip 
over  the  neighboring  nations,  which,  at  present 
were  far  from  being  in  a  settled  condition.  In 
Greece,  particularly,  though  Philip  had  awed 
the  states  into  submission,  by  the  terror  of  his 
arms,  yet  their  minds  were  far  from  being  re- 

h-2 


90 


FLOWERS  OF 


conciled  to  his  authority.  The  question  was. 
whether  he  should  endeavor  to  preserve  those 
conquests  by  mildness  and  moderation,  or  by 
the  force  of  arms.  Alexander  quickly  formed 
liis  resolution,  harkening  alone  to  the  dictates 
of  his  courage. 

CHAP.  XLIII. 

JLtcxander  defeats  the  Barbarians ,  and  (lestroijs 

Thebes. 

IN  order  to  quell  the  commotions  that  had 
already  broken  out  among  some  of  the  barba¬ 
rous  nations,  who  had  taken  up  arms,  he  hasti¬ 
ly  led  his  army  towards  the  Danube,  passed 
that  river  in  the  night,  and  defeated  the  Tri- 
balli  in  a  great  battle. 

About  the  same  time  the  states  of  Greece 
formed  a  confederacy  against  him;  and  a  ru¬ 
mor  having  arisen  that  he  was  killed,  the  The¬ 
bans  made  an  insurrection,  and  cut  in  pieces 
the  Macedonian  garrison,  which  held  their  city 
in  subjection. 

At  Athens  too  Demosthenes  put  all  in  mo¬ 
tion,  calling  Alexander  (of  whose  real  charac¬ 
ter  he  was  yet  ignorant,)  a  giddy  young  man; 
and  he  wrote  letters  to  Attalus,  one  of  Philip’s 
generals  in  Asia-minor,  advising  him  to  revolt. 
Alexander,  already  suspicious  of  the  fidelity 
of  Attalus,  although  he  had  transmitted  to  him 
tl  ose  treasonable  letters  of  Demosthenes, 
thought  it  necessary  to  have  him  taken  off. 


AiSCIENT  HISTORY. 


91 


After  making  the  Barbarians  sensible  of  his 
merit,  he  resolved  to  proceed  to  Greece.  “It 
is  proper,”  said  he,  “to  shew  Demosthenes  at 
the  gates  of  Athens,  that  I  am  every  way  a 
man.”  He  advanced,  therefore,  towards  the 
pass  of  Thermopylae,  passed  in  without  resist¬ 
ance,  entered  Beotia,  required  of  the  Thebans 
to  deliver  up  (o  him  Phoenix  and  Prothentus, 
the  authors  of  their  insurrection;  and  on  their 
refusal  to  comply  with  his  demand,  immediately 
attacked  them. 

The  Thebans  fought  with  great  bravery  and 
obstinacy;  but  being  much  inferior  to  the  Ma¬ 
cedonians  in  point  of  numbers,  were  at  last  bro¬ 
ken,  and  almost  all  cut  off.  More  than  six 
thousand  men  were  killed  on  the  spot.  Thebes 
was  taken,  and  treated  with  all  the  rigors  of 
war. 

Alexander,  personally  incensed  against  the 
Thebans  for  the  extravagant  joy  they  had  tes¬ 
tified  at  the  news  of  his  death,  resolved  to  sa¬ 
tisfy  his  vengeance  by  the  utter  destruction  of 
their  unhappy  city.  He  sold  more  than  thirty 
thousand  of  the  inhabitants  for  slaves,  and  per¬ 
mitted  none  to  enjoy  their  liberty  except  the 
priests,  and  the  descendants  of  the  celebrated 
poet  Pindar. 

The  total  ruin  of  Thebes,  and  the  severity 
of  Alexander  to  its  miserable  inhabitants, 
threw  the  other  states  into  the  utmost  conster¬ 
nation.  Every  thing  gave  way  to  him,  and 
even  the  Athenians,  with  Demosthenes  himself, 
implored  the  mercy  of  the  conqueror  by  a  so¬ 
lemn  deputation. 


92 


FLOWERS  OF 


Alexander,  however,  despatched  messengers 
to  the  Athenians,  insisting  on  their  delivering 
up  to  him  ten  of  the  orators  who  had  been 
chiefly  instrumental  in  forming  the  late  confe¬ 
deracy  against  him.  The  orator  Demades,  a 
particular  favorite  of  Alexander,  undertook  to 
soften  him.  The  Macedonian  having  already 
satisfied  his  resentment,  by  the  ruin  of  the  The* 
bans,  and  being  unwilling  to  be  detained  from 
the  execution  of  the  great  design  he  was  medi¬ 
tating,  gave  a  favorable  hearing  to  Demades, 
insisted  on  the  banishment  of  Charidemus  alone, 
frankly  forgave  the  Athenians,  and  exhorted 
them  to  watch  over  the  affairs  of  Greece  during 
his  absence. 

CHAP.  XLIV. 

Alexander  causes  himself  to  be  declared  Gene - 
ralissimo  of  the  Greeks  against  the  Persians . 

HAVING  in  one  campaign  made  himself 
master  of  all  Greece,  Alexander  assembled  the 
deputies  of  all  the  towns  at  Corinth,  and  pro¬ 
cured  himself  to  be  solemnly  elected  comman* 
der  in  chief  of  the  Greeks  against  Persia. 

So  grand  an  undertaking,  calculated  to  de¬ 
throne  the  sovereign  of  the  east,  and  to  pro¬ 
duce  the  greatest  revolution,  as  far  as  we  know, 
that  ever  happened  on  our  earth,  required  a 
conductor  of  the  most  extensive  genius,  intre¬ 
pid,  enterprising,  incapable  of  being  stopped  by 
any  obstacle,  and  endued  with  the  greatest  ta- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


Vo 


lents  of  every  kind.  Such  a  man  was  Alexan¬ 
der. 

It  is  at  the  same  time  true,  that  he  found 
the  Greeks  still  actuated  by  their  inveterate 
hatred  of  the  Persians,  whom  to  subdue,  was 
the  most  ardent  desire  of  their  souls. 

It  is  likewise  true,  that  however  otherwise 
corrupted,  they  still  maintained  their  superi¬ 
ority  in  arms  over  the  Persians. 

It  was  at  the  time  of  this  solemn  assembly 
of  the  states  of  Greece  at  Corinth,  that  Alex¬ 
ander,  surprised  at  not  receiving  a  visit  from 
the  famous  Diogenes,  as  he  had  done  from  all 
the  other  philosophers,  resolved  to  pay  that 
cynic  a  visit.  Finding  Diogenes  basking  in  the 
sun,  and  in  a  situation  that  indicated  extreme 
poverty,  Alexander  asked  him  whether  he  wan¬ 
ted  any  thing.  “Yes,”  answered  Diogenes, 
“I  want  you  to  remove  from  between  me  and 
the  sun  beams.”  This  answer  raised  the  in¬ 
dignation  of  the  courtiers,  but  attracted  the  ad¬ 
miration  of  Alexander,  who  declared,  if  he 
were  not  Alexander,  he  would  choose  to  be  Di¬ 
ogenes.  As  if  he  had  said,  “Were  I  not  de¬ 
signed  to  be  the  master  of  the  world,  I  should, 
like  Diogenes,  give  myself  no  concern  about 
any  in  the  world.” 

On  his  return  to  Macedonia,  he  was  very 
liberal  of  his  presents  to  those  othcers,  whose 
attachment  to  him  was  of  importance.  One  of 
them  having  asked  him,  what  he  intended  to 
reserve  for  himself,  he  replied,  “Hope.” 

Alexandej*  set  out  for  Asia  in  the  beginning 


94 


FLOWERS  OF 


of  spring,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  30,000 
foot,  and  5,000  horse.  Most  of  his  officers 
were  men,  who  having  grown  old  in  the  service 
of  Philip,  were  thoroughly  experienced  in  the 
art  of  war;  and  his  soldiers  were  all  veterans, 
and  perfectly  acquainted  with  discipline.  Par- 
menio  commanded  the  foot,  as  did  his  son  Phi- 
lotas  a  part  of  the  horse. 

Alexander  marched  directly  to  the  Helles¬ 
pont,  which  he  passed  with  160  gallies,  and  se¬ 
veral  smaller  vessels,  conducting  with  his  own 
hand  the  galley  wherein  he  sailed. 

His  treasury  was  very  inadequate  to  so  great 
an  undertaking.  But  both  Alexander  and  his 
officers  were  firmly  persuaded,  that  they  were 
marching  rather  to  certain  conquests,  than  to 
attempt  a  doubtful  expedition. 

Arriving  at  Ilium,  he  resolved  to  celebrate 
public  games  to  the  memory  of  Achilles;  which 
he  caused  to  be  performed  accordingly,  around 
that  hero’s  tomb.  On  that  occasion,  he  ex¬ 
pressed  his  envy  at  the  good  fortune  of  Achil¬ 
les,  in  having  found  a  faithful  friend  while  he 
lived,  and  after  his  death  a  Homer  to  immor¬ 
talize  his  exploits. 

CHAP.  XLV. 

Alexander  defeats  the  Persians  at  Granieus. 

WHEN  Alexander  arrived  at  the  banks  of 
the  G-ranicus,  Parmenio  advised  to  halt  a  little, 
that  the  troops  might  have  some  time  to  re- 


ANCIENT  HISTORT. 


9& 


pose  themselves.  But  Alexander’s  eagerness 
to  proceed,  prevented  his  complying  with  this 
advice;  for  he  said  it  was  proper  to  take  ad¬ 
vantage  of  the  terror,  which  the  news  of  his  ar¬ 
rival  had  created  among  the  Persians.  His 
courage  was  rather  animated  than  depressed  at 
the  view  of  the  vast  army  which  waited  for 
him  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  which 
amounted  to  upwards  of  190,000  foot  and 
10,000  horse,  under  the  command  of  Memnon, 
the  Rhodian,  a  very  skilful  general. 

Alexander  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
right  wing  of  his  army,  plunged  into  the  river, 
and  was  followed  by  all  his  troops.  The  Per¬ 
sians  seeing  the  Macedonians  advancing,  assail¬ 
ed  them  with  a  shower  of  darts.  Both  armies 
came  at  last  to  the  charge.  The  Macedonians 
fighting  under  the  double  disadvantage  of  in¬ 
feriority  in  point  of  numbers  and  the  worst 
ground,  gave  way  a  little  at  first.  Alexander 
encourages  them  with  his  presence,  deals  death 
with  every  stroke,  and  bears  down  all  before 
him.  lie  charges  the  Persian  cavalry,  who 
make  a  brave  resistance.  He  engages  Spith- 
robates,  the  son-in-law  of  Darius,  and  trans¬ 
fixes  him  with  his  lance.  Here  Clitus,  who 
fought  by  Alexander’s  side,  saved  his  life, 
by  intercepting  the  stroke  of  a  batUe-axe  that 
was  aimed  at  him.  The  Macedonians,  seeing 
the  danger  that  threatened  their  king,  redoub¬ 
led  their  efforts,  and  at  last  put  the  Persian  ca¬ 
valry  to  flight.  Then  Alexander  charges  the 
enemy’s  infantry  with  his  Macedonian  phalanx, 
which  had  by  this  time  passed  the  river. 


96 


FLOWERS  OF 


The  Persians,  confounded  at  the  boldness  of 
the  Macedonians,  make  but  a  feeble  resistance, 
and  are  quickly  routed.  No  part  of  the  Per¬ 
sian  army  now  kept  its  ground,  except  a  body 
of  Grecian  infantry  engaged  in  the  service  of 
Darius.  These  finding  themselves  deserted  by 
the  Persians,  and  their  retreat  cut  off  by  the 
Macedonians,  began  a  most  obstinate  engage¬ 
ment,  and  being  all  brave  well-disciplined  vete¬ 
rans,  they  fought  with  the  most  desperate  ob¬ 
stinacy,  and  were  all  killed  on  the  spot,  except 
2,000,  who  were  made  prisoners.  The  Persians, 
in  this  battle,  lost  20,000  foot  and  2,500  horse. 
The  loss  of  Alexander  was  only  about  200  men, 
among  whom  were  25  horsemen  of  the  royal 
guard,  to  whose  memory  Alexander  ordered 
statues  to  be  erected.  He  shewed  the  utmost 
attention  to  the  wounded,  going  himself  to  see 
them  dressed.  He  ordered  all  the  Greek  pri¬ 
soners  to  be  conveyed  to  Macedonia,  and  sent  to 
tbe  Athenians  300  Persian  bucklers,  as  a  to¬ 
ken  of  his  victory. 

This  victory  was  a  happy  prelude  to  those 
that  were  to  follow,  and  served  to  propagate 
the  terror  of  the  Macedonian  arms.  Sardis, 
the  key  of  Upper  Asia,  opened  its  gates  to  the 
conqueror.  Ephesus  followed  the  example, 
and  Alexander  there  offered  sacrifices  to  Diana* 


4NCIENT  HISTORY.* 


or 


CHAP.  XLVI. 

Alexander  defeats  Darius  at  Issus. 

DARIUS,  in  the  mean  lime,  who  lay  en* 
camped  on  the  plains  of  Assyria,  with  an  army 
of  between  400,000  and  500,000  men,  resolved 
to  go  in  quest  of  his  enemy,  instead  of  waiting 
for  him.  That  monarch,  accustomed  to  the 
extravagant  flattery  of  his  Satraps,  who  assured 
him  of  victory,  asked  Charidemus,  the  Athenian 
orator,  whose  banishment  from  his  native  coun¬ 
try  had  been  procured  by  Alexander,  whether 
he  believed  the  Persian  army  to  he  powerful 
enough  to  conquer  that  of  the  presumptuous 
Macedonian.  Charidemus,  incapable  of  flatte¬ 
ry  or  dissimulation,  answered  with  the  honest 
freedom  of  a  republican,  that  all  the  pompous 
and  magnificent  warlike  preparations  of  the 
Persian  army,  and  their  prodigious  number  of 
men,  might  indeed  terrify  and  confound  the 
neighboring  powers  of  the  Persian  monarchy, 
but  would  make  no  such  impression  on  the  Ma¬ 
cedonian  army,  which  was  all  covered  with 
steel;  that  the  Macedonian  phalanx  was  an  im¬ 
penetrable  bulwark;  that  all  their  soldiers  were 
inured  to  war,  were  thoroughly  disciplined, 
and  were  satisfied  with  the  plainest  food;  that 
the  Thessalian  horsemen  were  not  to  be  re¬ 
pulsed  by  slings,  and  that  all  the  gold  and  sil¬ 
ver,  of  which  the  Persian  camp  displayed  such 

I 


98 


FLOWERS  OF 


a  vain  parade,  might  be  much  more  usefully 
employed  in  hiring  good  troops. 

To  speak  so  plainly  and  honestly  to  a  prince 
corrupted  by  flattery,  and  who  considers  him¬ 
self  as  the  most  powerful  monarch  in  the  world, 
is  highly  dangerous.  Charidemus  experienc¬ 
ed  to  his  cost  the  truth  of  this  maxim;  for  Da¬ 
rius,  though  naturally  of  a  mild  and  gentle  dis¬ 
position,  was  so  provoked  at  the  blunt  ness  of 
the  Athenian,  that  he  ordered  him  to  be  put 
to  death.  But  that  awful  prospect  by  no  means 
altered  the  tone  of  Charidemus;  who,  as 
Quintus  Curtius  tells  us,  when  led  to  execu¬ 
tion,  cried  out,  “M,,  death  shall  he  quickly 
avenged,  even  by  the  very  man  against  whom 
I  have  given  my  best  advice.  But  you  shall 
i\  isli  an  example  to  posterity,  that  when 
men  once  allow  themselves  to  he  dazzled  by 
prosperity,  all  the  good  qualities  bestowed  by 
nature,  are  quickly  eradicated.” 

Darius  repented,  when  too  late,  of  having 
put  Charidemus  to  death.  In  the  mean  time 
he  advanced  with  his  army  towards  the  Eu¬ 
phrates,  never  beginning  his  march  in  the 
morning  till  after  sunrise.  Quintus  Curtius 
has  given  us  a  description  of  the  march,  or  ra¬ 
ther  of  the  royal  procession  immediately  about 
the  person  of  the  Persian  monarch,  whereof 
the  substance  is  as  follows. 

There  was  a  body  of  cavalry  composed  of 
men  of  twelve  different  nations,  and  another 
bodj  called  the  immortal ,  amounting  to  10,000 
dressed  in  robes  of  cloth  of  gold.  The  rela- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


99 


( 


^ons  of  the  king,  to  the  number  of  10,000, 
were  most  sumptuously  dressed.  There  were 
ftlso  365  young  boys  clothed  in  purple  robes. 

The  chariot  of  the  kins  was  adorned  with 
images  of  the  gods;  and  two  statues,  one  of 
war  and  the  other  of  peace,  were  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  yoke,  and  set  off  with  precious 
stones.  Between  these  statues  was  an  eagle 
of  gold,  with  its  wings  extended.  The  king 
appeared  on  this  chariot,  dressed  in  the  highest 
magnificence,  begirt  with  a  belt  of  gold, 
whence  depended  his  scymitar.  His  head  was 
adorned  with  tiara,  surmounted  with  a  crown 
of  blue  and  white.  On  each  side  of  him 
marched  two  hundred  of  his  relations.  He 
was  followed  by  10,000  pike  men.  His  rear 
was  composed  of  30,000  foot.  Then  followed 
a  chariot  carrying  Sysigambis,  the  mother  of 
Darius,  accompanied  by  his  wife;  as  also  fif¬ 
teen  large  chariots,  hearing  the  king’s  chil¬ 
dren,  with  their  governors  and  eunuchs,  an4 
his  concubines,  to  the  number  of  360.  Six 
hundred  mules,  and  three  hundred  waggons, 
were  loaded  with  money.  The  wives  of  the 
officers  of  state  were  all  mounted  on  chariots. 
The  procession  was  closed  by  companies  of 
light  armed  troops. 

One  should  he  inclined  to  think  the  descrip¬ 
tion  of  this  march  a  mere  fable.  For  what 
could  he  more  ridiculous  and  absurd  than  to 
take  the  field  with  all  this  pomp? 

Parmenio  had  already,  by  the  direction  of 
Alexander,  taken  possession  of  the  pass  be- 


100 


FLOWERS  01 


tween  Syria  and  Cilicia,  to  secure  a  retreat  to 
his  troops  in  case  of  necessity.  lie  had  like* 
wise  taken  possession  of  the  small  city  of 
Issus. 

Alexander  hearing  that  Darius  Nvas  encamp¬ 
ed  at  Soca  in  Assyria,  marched  directly  against 
him,  passed  the  defile  of  Syria,  and  took  post 
near  the  city  of  Myriandra.  The  Greek  com¬ 
manders  in  the  service  of  Darius,  advised  that 
monarch  to  wait  for  the  enemy  on  the  plains 
-  of  Assyria,  where  he  might  avail  himself  of 
all  his  strength.  This  prudent  advice  was 
the  courtiers  accounted  traitorous,  who  there¬ 
fore  were  of  opinion,  that  those  Greeks,  to¬ 
gether  with  their  men,  ought  to  be  immedi¬ 
ately  cut  in  pieces.  But  Darius  rejected  this 
proposal  with  horror;  and  after  thanking  the 
Greeks  for  their  advice;  set  forward  to  meet 
his  enemy. 

Darius  directed  his  march  towards  Cilicia, 
entering  into  that  country  by  the  pass  of  An> 
manieus,  which  lies  above  that  of  Syria,  and 
then  advanced  towards  issus,  without  knowing 
that  he  was  in  the  rear  of  Alexander.  Intel¬ 
ligence  being  brought  him  that  the  Macedonian 
was  Hying,  he  thought  that  he  had  nothing  to 
do  but  to  go  in  pursuit  of  him. 

Alexander,  hearing  of  the  situation  of  Da¬ 
rius’  army,  was  overjoyed  at  the  thoughts  of 
engaging  in  so  narrow  and  unequal  a  spot, 
where  he  had  room  enough  to  bring  all  his  for¬ 
ces  into  action,  while  on  the  other  hand  Dari¬ 
us  could  not  make  use  of  the  twentieth  part 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


101 

ot*  his.  He  felt,  however,  some  anxiety  at  be¬ 
ing;  on  the  eve  of  coming  to  so  important  an  ac¬ 
tion.  But  his  natural  intrepidity  quickly  got 
the  better  of  all  his  apprehensions. 

After  causing  his  troops  to  refresh  them¬ 
selves,  and  offering  up  a  solemn  sacrifice  to  the 
gods,  he  gave  orders  at  midnight  for  marching, 
and  brought  his  army  by  day-break  to  the  sta¬ 
tion  he  intended  to  occupy.  Hearing  that  Da- 
rius  was  within  a  league  and  an  half  of  him, 
he  immediately  arranged  his  troops  in  order  of 
battle.  The  spot  on  which  they  were  drawn 
up  was  a  fine  plain  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
river  Issus,  confined  by  mountains  on  one  side, 
and  the  sea  on  the  other.  He  disposed  his 
cavalry  on  the  wings,  and  formed  the  phalanx 
into  six  divisions.  Oaterus  commanded  the 
infantry  on  the  extremity  of  the  left  wing, 
Parmenio  the  rest  of  that  wing;  and  Alexan¬ 
der  himself  the  right  wing.  His  cavalry  was 
covered  by  his  light  horse,  and  his  infantry  by 
a  body  of  archers  under  Antioclrus. 

Darius  placed  in  the  centre  of  his  first  line 
30.000  Geeks,  who  were  in  his  service,  and 
being  all  completely  armed  and  disciplined  af¬ 
ter  the  Grecian  manner,  formed  the  chief 
strength  of  his  army.  The  rest  of  his  infan¬ 
try  were  drawn  up  behind  the  first  line,  except 
20,000  who  were  posted  on  the  mountain,  on 
the  right  of  the  Macedonians.  His  cavalry 
was  ordered  to  cross  the  river  Pi  minis,  which 
ran  through  the  middle  of  the  plain;  and  then 

i  ^ 


IX OW EllS  Of 


1C& 

a  large  detachment  of  them  pushed  on  towards 
Parmenio. 

Alexander  observing  this  motion  of  the  Per¬ 
sian  cavalry,  altered  his  former  disposition  a 
little,  commanded  the  Thessalian  cavalry  to  oc¬ 
cupy  the  post  at  which  the  Persian  cavalry 
seemed  to  aim,  and  stationed  his  light  armed 
troops  in  front  of  his  infantry. 

The  main  bodies  of  both  armies  coming  at 
last  in  view  of  each  other,  Alexander  rode 
through  his  ranks,  and  exhorted  his  soldiers  to 
do  their  duty,  reminding  the  Macedonians  of 
their  repeated  victories  in  Europe,  and  of  their 
recent  and  most  glorious  success  at  the  Grani- 
eus*  and  assuring  them  that  a  single  victory  w  ould 
render  them  masters  of  the  Persian  empire, 
exhorting  the  Greeks  to  reeal  to  their  remem¬ 
brance  the  heroic  behavior  of  their  ancestors 
at  Marathon,  Thermopylje,  and  Safamis,  and 
the  miseries  brought  upon  their  country  by  the 
Persians;  and  animating  the  Illyrians  and  Thra¬ 
cians  with  the  hopes  of  the  immense  plunder 
which  the  Persian  army,  if  beaten,  would  afford 
them.  Upon  this  they  all  called  aloud  to  he 
led  on  to  the  engagement. 

The  right  wing  of  the  Macedonians,  to  avoid 
as  much  as  possible  the  shower  of  darts  pour¬ 
ed  upon  them  by  the  Persians,  plunged  imme¬ 
diately  into  the  river,  and  advanced  to  the 
charge.  The  shock  w  as  extremely  violent,  and 
they  fought  man  to  man.  Alexander  was  very 
desirous  of  having  the  honour  to  kill  Darius 
with  his  own  hand;  and  the  sight  of  that  mo¬ 
narch,  conspicuously  mounted  on  his  superb* 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


106 


chariot,  redoubled  the  desire  of  the  Macedoni¬ 
an  hero,  who  instantly  pushed  forward,  and  ex¬ 
erted  his  utmost  efforts  to  reach  him.  The 
battle  round  the  king  becomes  very  desperate, 
and  a  great  number  of  Persian  noblemen 
are  killed  fighting  bravely.  The  horses  of 
Darius  being  wounded,  break  loose  from  the 
yoke.  Darius  jumps  from  that  chariot,  mounts 
another,  makes  his  escape,  and  is  followed  Jjy 
the  whole  right  wing  of  his  army. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  rest  of  the  Macedo¬ 
nian  army  being  attacked  in  flank  by  the  Gre¬ 
cian  troops,  as  warlike  and  well  disciplined  as 
themselves,  had  occasion  for  all  their  bravery 
to  support  the  charge.  The  battle  between  them 
was  very  bloody  and  doubtful.  But  the  Mace¬ 
donian  right  wing,  now  victorious,  flies  to  the 
assistance  of  the  left,  attacks  the  Greeks  in 
flank,  and  obliges  them  to  give  way.  At  the 
same  time  the  Persian  had  charged  the  Thes¬ 
salian  cavalry,  and  had  at  first  broken  through 
several  squadrons. 

The  Thessalians  affecting  to  take  flight,  as  if 
struck  with  panic,  the  Persians  pursue  them  in 
great  disorder.  But  the  Thessalians  rallying 
all  of  a  sudden,  renew  the  engagement.  Intel¬ 
ligence  arriving  in  the  mean  time,  that  Darius 
had  fled,  the  Persian  horsemen  are  discouraged, 
betake  themselves  to  flight,  and  great  numbers 
of  them  are  cut  off  in  their  retreat.  The  rout 
is  now  general.  Eight  thousand  Greeks  make 
their  escape,  and  retire  towards  Lebos.  The 
barbarians  take  different  roads.  Some  flee 
towards  Persia,  some  take  refuge  in  the  woods^ 


104 


FLOWERS  OF 


The  Macedonians,  in  (he  mean  lime,  possess 
themselves  of  Darius’  camp,  where  they  find 
his  mother  and  his  wife,  together  with  two 
princesses  and  a  son,  his  infant  children. 

The  Persians  lost  a  vast  number  of  men  in 
this  battle,  while  the  loss  on  the  side  of  the 
Macedonians  was  very  inconsiderable.  Alex- 
ander  himself  was  wounded  in  the  thigh  by  a 
sword;  hut  the  wound  was  attended  with  no 
dangerous  consequences. 

CHAP.  XLYII. 

Of  Alexander' $  treatment  of  Jhirias9  Family . 

ALEXANDER,  weary  of  pursuing  Darius, 
returned  to  the  Persian  camp,  where  he  gave 
a  grand  entertainment  to  his  principal  officers. 
In  the  mean  time  the  noise  of  crying  and 
mourning  reached  his  ears.  This  proceeded 
from  the  mother  and  wife  of  Darius,  who  were 
made  prisoners,  and  on  seeing  Darius’  chariot 
and  bow,  which  Alexander  had  taken  in  the 
pursuit,  they  imagined  Darius  was  killed;  and 
were  bewailing  his  death  in  the  most  disconso¬ 
late  manner. 

Alexander,  moved  with  their  misfortune, 
sent  Leonatus,  one  of  his  officers,  to  assure 
them  that  Darius  was  alive.  But  the  wo¬ 
men  seeing  Leonatus  enter,  imagined  that  he 
w  as  sent  to  put  them  to  death,  and  intreated  to 
have  permission  before  their  execution  to  bury 
the  body  of  Darius.  Leonatus  soon  made 


AXiCIENT  HISTORY. 


105 


them  sensible  of  their  mistake,  and  assured 
I  hem  of  an  honorable  protection  from  Alexan¬ 
der.  That  prince,  after  visiting  the  wounded, 
and  seeing  the  dead  buried,  testified  great  joy 
to  his  officers  on  account  of  his  victory,  bestow¬ 
ed  the  highest  commendations  on  their  bravery, 
and  loaded  them  with  presents.  Then  he  went 
to  pay  a  visit  to  Sysigambis,  and  the  other 
pri  ncesses,  and  entered  their  tent  with  no  other 
attendant  than  his  favorite  Ephestion. 

This  interview  was  extremely  moving,  and 
exhibited  those  distinguised  characters  in  a 
point  of  view  so  very  affecting,  that  the  greatest 
painters  have  exerted  their  utmost  skill  to  eter¬ 
nize  the  scene,  with  the  most  elegant  touches 
of  the  pencil.  Ephestion  being  of  the  same 
age  with  Alexander,  and  of  a  more  advanta¬ 
geous  stature,  was  mistaken  for  the  king  by 
(lie  ladies,  who  accordingly  threw  themselves 
at  his  feet.  Sysigambis  on  being  informed  of 
her  mistake,  prostrated  herself  before  Alexan¬ 
der,  and  apologized  for  herself,  because  she 
had  never  seen  him  before.  But  Alexander, 
raising  her  from  the  ground,  said,  “My  dear 
mother,  you  are  not  mistaken,  for  he  islikewise 
Alexander.”  A  noble  expression,  as  honora¬ 
ble  for  the  prince  as  for  the  favorite. 

Sysigambis,  amidst  all  her  grief,  expressed 
fhc  highest  gratitude  for  the  favors  and  oblig¬ 
ing  attention  he  had  shewn  them;  and  Alexan¬ 
der  took  the  son  of  Darius  in  his  arms  and  ca¬ 
ressed  hi  tn  very  fondly. 

Here  the  real  heroism  and  virtue  of  Alex- 


106 


FLOWERS  OF 


under  shone  forth  in  full  splendor;  for  lie  ap¬ 
peared  to  be  master  of  himself  on  an  occasion 
when  the  greatest  heroes  and  conquerors  have 
failed.  He  gave  orders  to  treat  the  princesses 
with  all  the  respect  due  to  their  rank,  making 
his  camp  as  sacred  an  asylum  for  their  virtue, 
as  any  temple;  nor  would  he.  afterwards  trust 
himself  in  the  presence  of  Darius’  queen,  who 
was  a  woman  of  singular  beauty.  To  under¬ 
stand  the  full  extent  of  his  magnanimity  on 
this  occasion,  we  must  remember  (hat  Alex¬ 
ander  was  then  in  t lie  bloom  of  vouth,  unmar- 
ried,  and  a  conqueror.  But  far  from  attempt¬ 
ing  to  derive  any  ungenerous  advantage  from 
his  victory,  he  studied  to  alleviate  the  misfor¬ 
tunes  of  his  illustrious  captives,  by  the  most 
polite  attention  and  the  most  respectful  kind¬ 
ness  and  indulgence. 

CHAP.  XLYIIL 

A  / 

* 

A  Siclonian  Anecdote . 

UPON  Alexander’s  arrival  at  Phoenicia,  the 
Sidonians  paid  him  their  homage  with  great 
pleasure,  because  eighteen  years  before,  Ochi- 
us  had  destroyed  their  city  and  cut  off  most  of 
the  inhabitants.  Their  king  Strato  having  de¬ 
clared  for  Darius,  was  deprived  of  the  crown 
by  Alexander,  who  desired  Ephestion  to  pitch 
upon  any  of  the  Sidonians  whom  he  thought 
most  worthy  of  succeeding  to  that  dfnity. — 
Ephestion  accordingly  offered  the  sceptre  to  two 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


ior 


\ 


young  men  who  were  brothers,  and  in  whose 
house  he  happened  to  lodge.  But  they  gene¬ 
rously  declined  the  honor,  because  they  were 
not  of  the  royal  blood.  Ephestion,  struck 
with  admiration  at  their  magnanimity,  begged 
them  to  inform  him  of  any  person  who  had  that 
advantage.  They  thereupon  named  Abdolony- 
mus,  whose  generosity  and  integrity  had  re¬ 
duced  him  to  such  poverty,  that  he  was  obliged 
to  cultivate  bis  garden  with  bis  own  hands  for 
bis  subsistence.  The  tw  o  young  men  were  de¬ 
sired  to  find  him,  and  to  acquaint  him  with  his 
good  fortune.  Having  accordingly  gone  to 
him,  they  saluted  him  as  king,  and  told  him  he 
must  throw  aside  the  wretched  apparel  he  was 
then  wearing,  and  put  on  the  royal  robe  they 
had  brought  him.  It,  was  with  great  difficulty 
that  they  convinced  him  they  were  not  jesting. 
“Assume,”  said  they,  “with  these  royal  robes, 
sentiments  of  a  king:  preserve  on  the  throne 
that  virtue  which  has  made  you  worthy  of  it; 
and  when  you  shall  there  preside  as  the  abiter 
of  life  and  death,  forget  not  the  situation  from 
which  you  were  exalted  to  that  important  dig¬ 
nity.” 

All  the  inhabitants  of  Sidon  were  overjoyed 
at  hearing  on  whom  the  choice  had  fallen. 
Alexander  desired  to  see  the  new  king;  and 
having  asked  him  whether  he  had  been  able 
to  support  with  patience  his  former  situation? 
“Would  to  Heaven,”  answered  Abdolonyinus, 
“I  may  be  able  to  support  with  equal  resolu¬ 
tion  the  crown  which  you  have  been  pleased  to 


108 


FLOWERS  OF 


place  on  my  head.”  Alexander  conceived  a 
high  opinion  of  the  virtue  of  Abdolonymus, 
and  ordered  all  the  furniture  and  rich  effects  of 
the  late  king  Strato  to  be  given  to  him. 

CHAP.  XL  IX. 

Of  the  Siege  and  Taking  of  Tyre. 

NEW  Tyre,  which  was  situated  opposite  to 
Old  Tyre,  seemed  to  be  impregnable  without  a 
fleet.  But  Alexander,  who  never  was  repulsed 
by  any  obstacles,  undertook  to  join  the  island 
to  t lie  continent  by  a  causeway. 

The  work  was  forwarded  by  infinite  labor, 
but  was  destroyed  by  the  Tyrians.  The  ope¬ 
rations  were  renewed  with  fresh  ardor,  till  the 
Sidonians,  and  some  other  people,  whom  Alex¬ 
ander  treated  with  gentleness,  at  last  found 
ships  for  carrying  on  the  enterprise. 

He  then  hastened  the  siege,  and  all  sorts  of 
warlike  instruments  were  employed  by  both 
parties.  Besiegers  and  besieged  equally  sig¬ 
nalized  their  courage  and  abilities,  till  the  place 
was  taken  by  storm,  after  seven  mouths  resist¬ 
ance.  About  eight  thousand  Tyrians  were  put 
to  death;  thirty  thousand  prisoners  were  sold, 
and  the  conqueror  offered  up  sacrifices  to  Her¬ 
cules  upon  the  ruins  of  Tyre» 


ANCIENT  history. 


109 


CHAP.  L. 

Alexander  visits  Jerusalem ,  and  afterwards 

enters  Egypt. 

ACCORDING  to  Josephus,  the  Jewish  his¬ 
torian,  Alexander  went  next  to  Jerusalem,  with 
an  intention  to  use  the  people  of  that  place  as 
he  had  done  those  of  Tyre,  because  they  re¬ 
fused  to  supply  him  with  provisions,  upon  pre¬ 
tence  of  the  oath  which  they  had  sworn  to  the 
king  of  Persia. 

Jaddus,  the  chief  priest,  went  out  to  meet 
him,  dressed  in  his  pontifical  habit,  when  Al¬ 
exander,  struck  with  his  figure,  prostrated 
himself  to  worship  the  name  of  God,  which  he 
carried  written  on  a  plate  of  gold;  declaring 
at  the  same  time,  that  this  very  high-priest 
had  formerly  appeared  to  him  in  a  dream,  and 
had  promised  him  the  conquest  of  Asia.  Such 
a  wonderful  event  should  be  confirmed  by 
some  other  evidence.  Rut  neither  the  scrip¬ 
tures  nor  profane  history  make  any  mention 
of  it. 

Alexander  having  taken  tlr3  city  Of  Gaza, 
which  was  nobly  defended  by  Betis,  entered 
Egypt,  where  he  was  received  with  every  ex¬ 
pression  of  joy  and  satisfaction,  the  Persians 
having  made  themselves  detested  by  despising 
the  religion  of  the  eountry.  He  allowed  the 
Egyptians  to  retain  their  own  laws  and  cus¬ 
toms,  which  was  a  very  proper  step  to  make 

K 


110 


flowers  op 


them  pleased  with  his  holding  the  sovereign 
authority. 

A  silly  piece  of  vanity  led  him  to  the  tem¬ 
ple  of  Jupiter  Ammon,  across  the  scorching 
sands,  where  fifty  thousand  men  of  the  army 
commanded  hy  Camhyses,  had  been  buried. 
All  the  historians  tell  us.  that  lie  extricated 
himself  by  a  kind  of  miracle.  They  say  that 
lie  was  desirous  to  be  thought  the  son  of  Ju¬ 
piter,  and  that  the  oracle  gave  him  that  title. 
This  perhaps  may  he  true,  for  who  dared  to 
oppose  him?  But  his  mother  Olympias  wrote 
to  him  in  raillery,  not  to  set  her  and  Juno  by 
the  ears. 

He  founded  the  city  of  Alexandria  in  Egypt, 
which  was  an  undertaking  more  worthy  of  a 
great  man,  and  undoubtedly  much  more  to  his 
honour  than  the  sacreligious  flattery  ottered  to 
him  by  the  priest  of  Jupiter. 

CHAP.  LT. 

Of  Darius ’  offers  to  Alexander,  the  Battle  of 
Arhela,  and  the  Death  of  Darius . 

SUCCESS  becomes  a  dreadful  poison  to 
the  minds  of  men,  and  it  produced  very  extra¬ 
ordinary  effects  upon  a  hero  who  seemed  to  he 
intended  as  an  object  for  the  world  to  admire. 
Darius  made  an  offer  to  Alexander  of  ten  thou¬ 
sand  talents,  and  his  daughter  Statira  in  mar¬ 
riage,  with  the  whole  country  lying  between 
the  river  Euphrates  and  the  Hellespont.  Pru- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


Ill 


dence  could  not  have  left  him  a  moment  to 
hesitate.  Parmenio  said,  that  if  he  were  Al¬ 
exander,  he  would  accept  of  these  offers.  “And 
so  would  I,”  answered  Alexander,  “were  1 
Pai'memo.”  He  therefore  informed  Darius, 
that  he  had  no  occasion  for  his  money;  and 
that  with  respect  to  the  conquered  provinces, 
he  offered  with  a  had  grace  what  was  not  in 
his  power  to  bestow;  but  that  lie  might,  when¬ 
ever  he  pleased,  venture  another  battle,  which, 
in  all  probability,  would  quickly  decide  which 
of  them  should  remain  the  conqueror  and  mas¬ 
ter.  This  answer  convinced  the  Persian  mo¬ 
narch,  that  he  had  now  no  alternative  but  once 
more  to  try  the  fate  of  war. 

Darius  had  time  to  assembly  seven  or  eight 
hundred  thousand  men,  and  Alexander,  always 
«t<<?nde.d  with  success,  passed  the  river  Eu¬ 
phrates  and  Tigris  without  opposition,  where 
he  presented  himself  in  the  face  of  the  en¬ 
emy,  placing  his  whole  dependence  on  the 
known  valor  of  his  troops.  The  advice  which 
Parmenio  gave  him  to  attack  the  enemy  in  the 
night,  must  have  lost  him  this  advantage,  hut 
he  replied  with  judgment,  as  well  as  great¬ 
ness  of  mind,  that  it  did  not  suit  him  to  steal 
a  victory. 

The  famous  battle  of  Arbela  brought  him 
to  the  very  summit  of  prosperity.  The  left 
wing,  which  Parmenio  commanded,  was  in 
danger,  and  the  cavalry  of  Darius  had  begun 
to  plunder  the  camp,  when  Alexander,  who 
was  successful  on  the  other  wing,  sent  orders 


ii% 


'MOWERS  01 


to  Parmcnio  not  to  be  uneasy  about  his  bag¬ 
gage,  but  to  think  only  of  conquering.  Which 
order  had  a  wonderful  effect,  for  he  very  soon 
gained  a  complete  victory.  About  three  hun¬ 
dred  thousand  of  the  enemy  were  killed  in  the 
field,  and  only  twelve  hundred  Macedonians. 

Though  Darius  had  an  infinite  number  of 
men,  yet  he  had  but  few  soldiers  in  his  army, 
which  was  the  cause  of  bis  misfortune.  lie 
shewed  no  want  of  courage  during  the  action, 
but  was  Jiurried  along  by  his  flying  troops. 

We  cannot  withhold  our  praise  or  compas¬ 
sion  from  that  unfortunate  prince,  who  became 
the  victim  of  another  person’s  ambition.  Gen¬ 
erous  and  peaceable,  he  met  with  the  fate  that 
is  due  only  to  tyrants.  After  having  passed  a 
river  in  his  flight,  he  refused  to  let  the  bridge 
be  broken  down,  as  he  could  not  think  of  pre¬ 
serving  his  own  life,  at  the  expense  of  the 
lives  of  so  many  of  his  subjects,  who  were 
exposed  to  the  sword  of  the  enemy.  Being 
betrayed  by  Bessus,  one  of  his  Satraps,  be 
declined  to  trust  bis  person  to  a  guard  of  Gre¬ 
cians,  who  were  attached  to  him,  lest  it  should 
he  thought  an  affront  to  the  Persians.  Con¬ 
stantly  pursued  by  Alexander,  he  was  assassi¬ 
nated  by  Bessus,  and  when  dying,  charged  a 
Macedonian,  if  we  may  believe  Plutarch,  to 
thank  his  enemy  for  bis  behavior  to  his  mo¬ 
ther,  wife,  and  children. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY, 


1.13 

CHAP.  LII. 

Alexander's  Degeneracy  and  Death . 

FROM  this  time  forward,  we  can  scarcely 
trace  any  of  those  virtuous  sentiments  in  Alex¬ 
ander,  of  which  he  had  before  given  so  many 
proofs.  Dissipation,  cruelty  and  ingratitude, 
tarnished  all  his  glory;  and  he,  who  formerly 
would  have  no  cooks,  but  sobriety  and  exer¬ 
cise,  now  passed  the  day  and  night  in  riots  and 
feasting.  He  became  fond  of  the  luxury  and 
ornaments  of  the  Persian  kings,  which  he  had 
formerly  despised,  and  looked  with  contempt 
on  the  dress  and  manners  of  the  brave  Mace® 
donians,  who  had  been  the  instruments  by 
which  he  had  gained  so  many  victories.  He 
desired  that  the  people  should  adore  him.  and 
laid  himself  open  to  murmurings  and  rebellion* 
As  Babylon  was  the  greatest  and  most  beau  ¬ 
tiful  city  of  the  east,  Alexander  resolved  to 
beautify  it  still  more,  and  make  it  the  seat  of 
his  empire.  In  the  first  place,  therefore,  he 
gave  orders  to  repair  the  bulwark,  which  had 
been  built  to  confine  the  Euphrates  to  its  chan¬ 
nel,  but  which  the  river  had  in  a  great  mea¬ 
sure  demolished.  This  useful  project,  how¬ 
ever,  as  well  as  that  of  rebuilding  the  temp/e 
of  Belus,  which  had  been  ruined  by  Xerxes, 
as  the  idol  worshipped  in  it  had  been  by  Cyrus, 
together  with  all  his  other  projects,  were  put 
a  slop  to  b}  his  death, 
k  % 


114- 


flowers  OF 


The  melancholy  idea  of  approaching  death, 
had  now  laid  fast  hold  on  the  imaginations  of 
Alexander.  Every  accident,  therefore,  struck 
him  with  terror,  and  carried  an  evil  presage 
along  with  it.  He  became  a  downright  slave 
to  superstition,  and  was  perpetually  offering  up 
sacrifices  to  render  fate  propitious,  and  to  ob¬ 
tain  the  knowledge  of  futurity.  To  divert  the 
constant  stings  of  apprehension;  he  employed 
his  time  in  an  uninterrupted  course  of  feasting 
and  drinking,  particularly  the  latter,  in  which 
he  indulged  himself  to  such  excess,  that  he 
thereby  greatly  accelerated  kis  death,  After 
having  at  one  of  these  feasts  already  drank  to 
great  excess*  he  resolved,  nevertheless,  to  emp¬ 
ty  the  cup  of  Hercules,  which  contained  six 
bottles.  But  he  had  no  sooner  swallowed  it, 
than  he  fell  to  the  ground,  and  was  seized 
with  a  violent  fever,  which  quickly  reduced 
him  to  the  point  of  death.  Finding  that  there 
was  no  hope  of  recovery  left,  he  delivered  his 
ring  to  Perdiceas,  and  permitted  all  his  soldiers 
to  kiss  his  hand.  On  being  asked  to  whom  he 
left  the  empire?  “To  the  most  worthy,”  an¬ 
swered  he;  adding,  at  the  same  time,  that  he 
foresaw  with  what  strange  rites  they  would  cel¬ 
ebrate  his  funeral.  Ferdiecas  having  asked  him 
how  soon  he  desired  they  should  pay  divine^ 
honors  to  his  memory,  he  answered,  “When 
ye  shall  be  happy.”  These  were  his  last  words. 
He  died  at  the  age  of  32,  after  reigning  twelve 
years.  He  first  married  Roxana,  daughter  of 
Oxyarfes,  king  of  the  Sacse,  a  lady  of  cxqui- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY* 


lio 


site  beauty,  by  whom  he  had  a  son;  and  after 
her  death,  he  married  Statjra,  the  eldest  daugh¬ 
ter  of  Darius. 

Some  authors,  and  Quintus  Curtius  among 
the  rest,  pretend  that  he  died  of  poison.  But 
besides  many  other  irrefragable  arguments  to 
the  contrary,  it  is  clear  that  he  died  of  exces¬ 
sive  drinking,  and  not  by  poison,  from  this 
single  circumstance,  that  in  the  warm  climate 
of  Babylon,  his  body  continued  for  several  days 
without  any  appearance  of  corruption. 

As  soon  as  his  death  was  known,  nothing 
was  heard  but  weeping  and  lamentation.  The 
victors  and  the  vanquished  equally  bewailed 
his  death;  the  Persians  calling  him  the  mildest 
and  justest  of  their  monarclis;  the  Macedoni¬ 
ans,  the  best  and  the  bravest  prince  in  the 
world*  The  grief  of  the  latter  was  heighten¬ 
ed  by  their  present  melancholy  situation  beyond 
the  Euphrates,  and  in  the  midst  of  their  ene¬ 
mies,  foreseeing  at  the  same  time,  the  wars  and 
divisions  that  must  unavoidably  arise  from  his 
having  named  no  successor. 

Sysigambis  mourned  his  death  as  sincerely 
as  she  had  done  that  of  her  own  son;  and 
finding  herself  by  this  event  without  further 
resource  or  hope,  she  gave  way  to  the  sug¬ 
gestions  of  despair,  and  starved  herself  to 
death. 


FLOWERS  OF 


116 


CHAP.  LIIL 

Character  of  Alexander, 

ALEXANDER  was  born  with  the  finest 
natural  parts;  and  his  magnanimity  and  lofty 
sentiments  were  almost  without  example,  lie 
early  discovered  marks  of  the  greatest  gene¬ 
rosity;  but  he  gave  as  early  proofs  of  unequal¬ 
led  ambition.  He  received  a  perfect  educa¬ 
tion,  under  the  most  skilful  of  masters,  Aris¬ 
totle,  who  took  great  pains  to  cultivate  his 
genius,  and  instruct  him  not  only  in  the  fine 
arts,  but  in  the  most  sublime  sciences.  The 
scholar’s  progress  corresponded  to  the  zeal  and 
skill  of  his  instructor. 

To  judge  how  far  he  possessed  every  talent 
of  a  complete  general,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
contemplate  his  passage  of  the  Granicus,  his 
battles  of  Issus,  and  Arbela,  and  bis  siege  of 
Tyre.  We  shall  there  perceive  his  skill  in 
drawing  up  an  army  in  order  of  battle,  his  prer- 
senee  of  mind  in  the  heat  of  action,  his  intre¬ 
pidity  in  the  midst  of  danger,  and  his  firmness 
and  constancy  under  disappointments. 

His  behavior  after  the  battle  of  Issus,  is 
perhaps  the  action  of  his  whole  life  that  did 
him  the  most  honor;  for,  on  that  occasion,  he 
gained  a  more  difficult  victory  over  his  own 
passions,  than  that  over  the  Persian  monarch. 
H  is  conduct  to  the  wife  and  daughters  of  Da¬ 
rius,  who  found,  in  his  camp,  an  asylum  for 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


117 


their  honor  and  virtue,  places  him,  in  that  re¬ 
spect,  on  a  level  with  the  elder  Seipio  Africa- 
mis,  and  bespeaks  him  truly  great. 

But  the  latter  part  of  his  life  exhibits  an 
important  lesson  to  mankind  in  general,  as  well 
as  to  kings.  They  will  there  see  the  effects 
which  a  great  ilow  of  success  could  have  upon 
a  noble  and  generous  soul,  who  must  have 
been  a  model  to  future  heroes,  if  he  had  not 
been  contaminated  by  vice.  The  sudden  tran- 
sition  from  good  to  bad,  from  prudence  to  fol¬ 
ly,  from  moderation  to  violence,  from  glory  to 
ignominy,  must  make  every  rational  being 
tremble  upon  the  brink  of  the  abyss  dug  by 
the  passions. 

After  the  siege  of  Tyre,  we  perceive  the 
good  qualities  of  Alexander  to  be  daily  degen¬ 
erating.  On  seeing  him  expose  his  own  life, 
and  that  of  his  troops,  in  a  journey  through 
the  burning  desarts  of  Lybia,  with  the  absurd 
view  of  having  himself  acknowledged  to  be 
the  son  of  Jupiter  Ammon,  we  wonder  what 
had  become  of  his  former  prudence.  We  are 
shocked  to  see  him  give  himself  up  to  such  im¬ 
moderate  excesses  of  drinking.  What  num¬ 
berless  actions  of  violence  and  injustice  have 
we  not  to  arraign  him  with,  after  his  subvert¬ 
ing  the  Persian  empire,  by  his  victory  at  Ar~ 
bela,  and  the  death  of  Darius!  Thenceforward 
he  shews  himself  an  unprovoked  persecutor  of 
nations  who  desired  only  to  live  in  peace.  He 
appears  no  longer  in  the  light  of  a  conqueror, 
still  less  in  that  of  a  hero;  he  is  a  downright 


118 


fXOWERS  OF 


usurper,  a  robber,  a  scourge  sent  by  the  Al¬ 
mighty  Disposer  of  all  things,  to  execute  his 
vengeance  on  a  guilty  world. 

He  seems  to  have  placed  his  glory  in  mak¬ 
ing  himself  the  terror  of  mankind;  and  his 
extravagant  ambition  confined  itself  neither 
by  rule  not*  measure.  On  hearing  the  philo¬ 
sopher  Anaxarchus  give  it  as  his  opinion,  that 
the  universe  contained  an  infinity  of  worlds, 
he  is  said  to  have  wept,  because  it  was  impos¬ 
sible  for  him  to  conquer  any  more  of  them 
than  one. 

His  rashness,  too,  deserves  to  be  numbered 
among  his  faults.  We  see  him  on  all  occa¬ 
sions  exposing  his  life  like  a  simple  volunteer, 
advancing  the  first,  to  the  assault,  climbing  up 
steep  and  dangerous  precipices,  and  constantly 
studying  to  perform  the  most  hazardous  and 
daring  exploits,  trusting  still  to  his  good  for¬ 
tune,  and  in  a  manner  to  miracles.  Such  is 
far  from  being  the  glory  at  which  a  sovereign 
ought  to  aim.  He  should  always  hear  in  mind, 
that  he  is  responsible  for  his  life  to  his  soldiers 
and  to  his  subjects. 

4 

CHAP.  LIT. 

Of  the  Olympic  Games . 

THE  games  and  combats  so  much  in  use 
among  the  Greeks,  were  principally  encour¬ 
aged  on  account  of  their  being  so  admirably 
calculated  for  rendering  the  bodies  of  their 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


119 


youth  robust  and  vigorous,  and  for  enabling 
th  em  to  support  the  fatigues  of  war;  and  like¬ 
wise,  because  they  formed  a  part  of  their  re¬ 
ligious  worship. 

Of  these  exercises  the  famous  heroes  of  an  ¬ 
tiquity,  such  as  Hercules,  Theseus,  Castor  and 
Pollux,  were  the  original  inventors:  and  the 
greatest  poets  aspired  to  glory,  by  celebrating 
the  praises  of  those  who  conquered  and  excel¬ 
led  in 'them.  In  process  of  time,  public  in¬ 
structors  of  these  exercises  arose,  who  formed 
a  separate  profession  by  themselves,  and  often 
made  an  ostentatious  display  of  their  skill,  by 
contending  with  one  another  in  public. 

Of  these  games  there  were  four  principal, 
and  more  solemn  exhibitions,  namely  the 
Olympic,  the  Pythian,  the  Ncmean,  and  the 
Isthmian. 

The  Olympic  games  were  the  most  famous 
of  all.  They  are  said  to  have  been  instituted 
by  Pelops.  No  particular  time  was  at  first  set 
apart  for  their  celebration.  But,  about  the 
year  before  Christ  781,  Iphitus,  king  of  Elis, 
fixed  it  to  every  fourth  year.  These  games 
were  consecrated  to  Jupiter,  and  were  perform¬ 
ed  in  the  neighborhood  of  Olympia,  a  city  in 
the  district  of  Pisa. 

An  Olympiad  was  t lie  period  of  four  years, 
being  the  space  of  time  which  intervened  be¬ 
tween  one  celebration  and  another.  Ancient 
authors  reckon  their  chronology  by  Olympiads, 
beginning  with  the  Olympiad  which  happened 
in  the  year  before  Christ  776. 


120 


FLOWERS  OF 


The  Olympic  games  were,  no  doubt,  at  iirst 
established  by  the  Greeks,  as  well  with  a  view 
to  draw  together  the  leading  men  in  the  diffe¬ 
rent  states  of  Greece,  that  they  might  have  an 
opportunity  of  deliberating  on  matters  of  ge¬ 
neral  concern,  as  to  inspire  the  youth  with  a 
love  of  glory. 

The  Greeks  exerted  their  utmost  efforts  to 
support  the  magnificence  of  these  games, 
which  were  regularly  celebrated  whilst  that 
people  maintained  their  liberty.  The  vast  con¬ 
course  of  spectators  who  constantly  flocked 
thither,  inspired  the  combatants  with  the  high¬ 
est  spirit  of  emulation,  and  to  come  off  victo¬ 
rious  was  esteemed  the  greatest  glory. 

According  to  Horace,  victory  there  raised 
the  conquerors  to  the  rank  of  gods.  The  year 
was  distinguished  by  the  name  of  the  conque¬ 
ror  in  the  chariot  races,  accounted  the  most 
honorable  of  all,  and  his  praises  was  sung  by 
the  most  famous  poets.  The  prize  was  a  crown 
of  laurel. 

CHAP.  LV. 

Of  Running  and  Horse  Races . 

RUNNING  wras  considered  as  the  princi¬ 
pal  exercise  in  the  Olympic  games;  which, 
therefore,  always  opened  with  the  foot  races. 

The  course  was  called  the  Stadium,  from 
the  measure  of  that  name,  containing  about 
66(]i  feet*  which  was  originally  the  whole  space 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


m 

set  apart  for  the  performance  of  all  the  exer¬ 
cises.  But,  in  process  of  time,  not  only  the 
particular  spot  within  which  the  disputants 
contended,  hut  likewise  that  occupied  by  the 
spectators,  was  called  by  that  appellation, 
though  perhaps  exceeding  the  extent  of  several 
stadia. 

In  the  middle  of  the  stadium  were  displayed 
the  different  prizes  destined  for  the  victors.  At 
one  extremity  of  the  lists  was  placed  the  bar¬ 
rier,  or  starting  place,  formed  by  a  cord  ex~ 
tended,  on  the  outside  of  which  were  ranged 
the  runnefs,  and  also  the  chariots.  The  draw¬ 
ing  of  this  cord  was  the  signal  for  starting. 
At  the  other  extremity  of  the  lists  was  placed 
the  goal  for  those  who  ran. 

The  runners  were  drawn  up  in  a  straight 
line,  and  the  moment  the  signal  was  given, 
they  hurried  towards  the  goal  with  wonderful 
rapidity.  In  the  shortest  race,  he  who  first 
arrived  at  the  goal  was  declared  the  victor. — ■ 
But  there  was  a  longer  race,  in  which  after 
reaching  the  goal  they  returned  to  the  barrier. 
Besides  these,  there  were  others  of ‘greater 
extent  still;  and  in  the  longest  of  all,  the  dis¬ 
putants  were  obliged  to  double  the  goal  twelve 
times. 

Horse  races  though  held  in  a  considerable 
degree  of  estimation,  were  not  so  common. 
And  indeed  in  those  ancient  times,  when  the 
use  of  stirrups  were  unknown,  it  must  have  re¬ 
quired  very  great  dexterity  to  contend  in  them. 

L 


122 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  LYI. 

Of  the  Chariot  liaces . 

THE  chariot  races  were  the  most  famous 
of  ail,  not  only  because  ancient  princes  and  he¬ 
roes  generally  fought  from  chariots,  but  like¬ 
wise,  because  those  that  contended  for  the 
prize  in  that  exercise  at  the  Olympic  games, 
were  persons  of  the  noblest  birth,  or  distin¬ 
guished  by  the  greatness  of  their  exploits. — 
Two  kings  of  Syracuse,  Gelo  and  Hiero,  and 
Philip  of  Macedon,  having  obtained  the  palm 
of  victory  in  this  dispute,  accounted  it  among 
their  highest  honors.  Those  chariots  were 
drawn  by  two  or  four  horses  yoked  a-brcast. — 
The  station  of  each  chariot  was  settled  by  lot; 
for  some  stations  were  much  more  advanta¬ 
geous  than  others.  Those,  for  example,  who 
were  ranged  on  the  left,  were  nearer  the  goal, 
around  which  they  were  obliged  to  turn,  than 
those  on  the  right,  which  had  a  larger  circuit 
to  perform.  But  the  stations  occupied  b,y  each 
before  starting,  were  necessarily  altered  in  the 
course  of  the  race;  for  the  fleetest  horses,  and 
the  most  skilful  charioteers,  would  certainly 
take  possession  of  the  most  convenient  sta¬ 
tions. 

Of  all  the  Athenians,  Alcibiades  was  the 
most  ambitious  to  distinguish  himself  in  these 
games.  For  that  purpose  he  kept  a  great  num¬ 
ber  of  horses;  and  once  sent  no  fewer  than  se* 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


±23 


ven  chariots  to  contend  for  the  prize.  On  the 
day  that  he  won  the  three  first  prizes,  he  gave 
a  grand  entertainment  to  all  the  spectators, who 
must  have  formed  a  vast  multitude.  These 
victories  of  Alcibiades  were  immortalized  by  a 
famous  ode,  composed  by  the  celebrated  Euri¬ 
pides. 

It  was  not  necessary  for  the  disputant  in  the 
chariot  races  to  conduct  his  chariot  in  person; 
it  was  sufficient  if  he  were  present,  or  even  if 
he  sent  thither  his  horses.  Thus  Philip  was 
at  Potidea,  when  he  received  the  news  of  his 
victory  in  the  chariot  races  at  the  Olympic 
games.  It  may  be  observed,  too,  that  even 
women  were  permitted  to  contend  for  the  prize 
in  that  dispute,  as  well  as  the  men.  We  learn 
from  history,  that  Cynisca,  the  sister  of  Age- 
silaus  king  of  Sparta,  was  the  first  woman  who 
set  the  example,  and  that  she  gained  the  vic¬ 
tory  in  the  race  of  the  chariots  drawn  by  four 
horses. 

The  victor,  after  being  adorned  with  a  crown 
of  olive,  received  a  palm  into  his  hand,  and 
was  conducted  through  the  stadium  by  a  he¬ 
rald,  who  proclaimed  him  victor  by  the  sound 
of  a  trumpet.  This  was  accompanied  by  loud 
shouts  from  the  spectators.  On  returning  to 
his  native  city,  he  made  his  entry  through  a 
breach  in  the  wall,  made  for  that  purpose* 
mounted  on  a  chariot  drawn  by  four  horses,  all 
his  fellow-citizens  going  out  to  meet  him. 


124. 


FLOWERS  OF 


.  CHAP.  LYII. 

Of  the  Gymnastic  Exercises. 

THE  comb'ats  of  the  Athletav  or  the  Gym¬ 
nastic  exercises,  formed  the  remaining  part  of 
the  entertainment  at  the  Olympic  games.  The 
Athletic  prepared  themselves  for  this  public 
exhibition  of  their  dexterity  by  a  regular  edu¬ 
cation;  and  none  but  free  Greeks,  of  irre¬ 
proachable  moral  characters,  were  admitted 
into  their  number.  They  were  obliged,  pre¬ 
viously  to  their  appearing  at  the  public  games, 
to  spend  ten  months  in  the  Gymnasia;  where 
under  direction  of  proper  masters  appointed 
for  the  purpose,  they  observed  the  most  rigid 
temperance  to  harden  their  bodies,  and  to  adapt 
them  to  the  requisite  exercises.  Before  en¬ 
gaging,  the  Athletge  had  their  bodies  carefully 
rubbed  and  anointed,  that  their  limbs  and 
joints  might  thereby  be  rendered  more  strong 
and  pliable. 

In  wrestling,  each  contending  party  prac¬ 
tised  his  utmost  strength,  agility  and  address, 
to  throw  down  his  adversary.  But  if  lie,  who 
was  thrown  down,  carried  his  opponent  along 
with  him,  the  dispute  was  not  at  an  end,  for 
they  still  continued  struggling,  and  he  who  got 
uppermost  at  last,  and  obliged  the  other  to 
demand  quarter,  was  declared  conqueror.  Mi¬ 
lo  of  Crotono  and  Polydamus,  were  the  most 
renowned  wrestlers  of  antiquity. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


125 


In  the  exercise  of  boxing,  the  combatants 
had  their  fists  armed  with  eestuses.  The  ces- 
tus  was  a  sort  of  gauntlet,  or  glove,  composed 
of  leather  straps,  lined  with  plates  of  iron,  to 
render  the  blows  more  violent.  To  preserve 
their  heads  from  contusions,  they  wore  a  sort 
of  large  cap.  Sometimes,  after  contending  a 
long  while,  they  were  so  exhausted  as  to*  be 
obliged  to  suspend  the  combat  for  a  few  mi¬ 
nutes,  that  they  might  draw  breath,  and  re¬ 
fresh  themselves.  In  these  engagements  they 
were  sometimes  frightfully  disfigured,  having 
all  their  body  covered  with  miserable  contu- 

o 

sions,  an  eye  knocked  out,  or  their  jaw-bones 
broken;  and  sometimes  the  combatants  drop¬ 
ped  down  on  the  spot. 

CHAP.  LVIII. 

Of  the  fiiscus, 

THE  discus  was  an  exercise  in  which  the 
disputants  exerted  all  their  strength  to  throw 
a  piece  of  stone  or  lead,  of  a  round  form,  and 
generally  of  such  a  weight,  that  it  was  with  dif¬ 
ficulty  carried  in  both  hands.  This  exercise 
was  also  calculated  to  strengthen  the  body,  and 
make  it  bear  more  easily  the  burthens  neces¬ 
sary  to  he  carried  in  war.  Their  posture  when 
they  threw  the  smaller  discus  was  thus:  They 
advanced  one.  leg  to  a  convenient  distance  be¬ 
fore  the  other,  bending  their  body,  and  holding 
the  discus  poised  on  one  arm,  leaning  their 

I  2 


126 


FX-OWEliS  OF 


whole  weight  on  the  foremost  leg;  then,  after 
two  or  three  motions,  in  the  manner  they  were 
to  throw,  in  order  more  properly  to  balance 
their  body,  they  discharged  the  discus,  he  who 
threw  it  farthest  won  the  prize.  But  besides 
this,  they  had  several  other  methods  to  throw 
the  discus,  generally  making  use  of  both  arms 
aft  the  same  time. 

CHAP.  LIX* 

Of  the  Poetical  and  Historical  Compositions 
read  at  the  Olympic  Games . 

BESIDES  these  exercises  above  described, 
it  was  usual  at  the  Olympic  games,  for  the 
poets  and  finest  geniuses  of  the  times,  to  con¬ 
tribute  still  further  to  the  public  entertainment, 
by  reciting  to  that  vast  assembly  some  of  their 
best  compositions.  There  Herodotus  publicly 
read  his  history,  which  was  so  highly  relished 
and  applauded,  that  each  of  the  nine  books, 
whereof  it  consisted,  was  honored  with  the 
pame  of  one  of  the  nine  muses.  In  like  man¬ 
ner  Lysias,  the  famous  Athenian  orator,  reci¬ 
ted  an  oration,  in  which  he  congratulated  the 
Greeks  on  their  having  humbled  the  power  tyf 
Dionysius  the  tyrant.  Several  other  orators 
likewise  went  thither  to  read  some  favorite  dis¬ 
course. 

The  victors  in  those  games  had  a  right  to 
precedency  at  all  the  public  shows.  Besides 
this  general  indulgence,  they  were  particularly 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


127 


honored  at  Sparta,  by  the  privilege  of  being 
maintained  at  the  public  charge,  and  of  fight¬ 
ing  nearest  the  person  of  the  king.  The  praises 
of  the  victors  were  commonly  the  subject  of 
the  odes  composed  by  the  poets  in  those  days. 
Pindar  and  Simonides  made  this  the  theme  of 
all  their  works  of  that  kind. 

CHAP.  LX. 

Of  Milo  the  Crotonian. 

ONE  of  the  most  famous  combatants  in  the 
Gymnastic  exercises,  as  we  before  observed, 
was  Milo  the  Crotonian,  so  called  from  his  be¬ 
ing  a  native  of  the  city  of  Crotonia.  He  is  re¬ 
nowned  in  history  for  his  prodigious  strength, 
and  his  great  courage.  When  but  a  very 
young  man,  he  was  six  times  victor  at  the 
Olympic  games. 

The  instances  of  iiis  strength,  and  no  less 
surprising  stomach,  told  us  by  historians,  ap¬ 
pear  almost  incredible.  He  is  said  to  have 
carried  on  his  shoulders,  the  whole  length  of 
a  stadium,  an  ox  four  years  old;  to  have  killed 
it  with  a  single  blow  of  his  fist:  and  to  have 
eaten  the  whole  carcase  in  one  day.  His 
strength,  however,  proved  at  last  his  destruc¬ 
tion.  For  having  attempted  to  open  entirely 
the  body  of  an  oak  tree,  which  he  found  a  lit¬ 
tle  open  already,  the  wood  closed  upon  his 
hands;  and  being  unable  to  disengage  himself, 
he  was  devoured  by  the  wild  beasts. 


i  28 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  LXI. 

,  * 

Of  Theatrical  Representations, 

THE  Athenians  were  passionately  fond  of 
theatrical  representations.  Among  them  judges 
were  appointed  to  examine  each  piece  before  it 
came  to  be  publicly  acted,  and  the  representa¬ 
tions  were  conducted  with  the  highest  magnifi¬ 
cence. 

Tragedy  was  not  only  invented,  but  carried 
to  the  highest  perfection  among  the  Greeks. 
Thespis  may  be  said  to  be  the  inventor  of  it. 
Esehylus  improved  upon  bis  plan,  and  Sopho¬ 
cles  and  Euripides  completed  the  work. 

Terror  and  pity  constituted  the  soul  of  the 
ancient  Greek  tragedy.  For  that  ingenious 
people,  who  in  every  art  and  science  made  na¬ 
ture  their  sole  model,  discovered  that  these  two 
passions  were  the  best  adapted  to  affect  the 
minds  of  the  spectators.  They  seem  to  have 
disdained  to  move  their  audience,  by  exhibit¬ 
ing  their  heroes  as  slaves  of  the  softer  pas¬ 
sions,  and  unmanned  bv  the  effeminate  cares  of 
love,  for  they  regarded  weaknesses  of  that  sort 
as  a  stain  on  their  characters. 

Comedy  kept  pace  with  her  sister  at  Athens, 
and  arrived  to  perfection  much  about  the  same 
time.  The  Athenians  took  great  delight  in  the 
liveliness  and  satirical  humor  of  its  represen¬ 
tations.  being  well  pleased  to  see  the  blemishes 
in  the  characters  of  their  superiors  and  content* 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


12i# 

poraries  exposed  and  censured  by  the  ingenious 
touches  of  pleasantry  and  wit. 

But  we  are  justly  surprised  at  the  extreme 
licentiousness  of  the  Athenian  comic  poets;  for 
they  not  only  made  the  most  illustrious  char¬ 
acters  of  their  age  the  butt  of  their  ridicule, 
but  even  meddled  with  those  of  their  gods. 
They  likewise  presumed  to  touch  on  state  af¬ 
fairs,  and  introduced  the  faults  of  government 
as  the  subject  of  their  mirth  and  pleasantry. 
This  excessive  licentiousness  was  one  of  the  con¬ 
sequences  of  the  popular  government. 

Crat inus,  Eupoli?,  and  Aristophanes,  were 
the  most  famous  of  the  Greek  comic  poets;  hut 
of  the  two  first  none  of  the  performances  have 
come  down  to  us,  and  only  a  few  of  those  of 
the  latter. 


CHAP.  LXII. 

Of  Music  and  Dancing. 

MUSIC,  which  holds  a  middle  rank  be¬ 
tween  the  exercises  of  the  body  and  the  quali¬ 
fications  of  the  mind,  was  likewise  carefully 
cultivated  by  the  Greeks,  and  considered  as  a 
necessary  and  polite  accomplishment.  The 
ancients,  indeed,  ascribed  to  this  art  the  most 
wonderful  effects,  believing  that  it  had  charms 
to  soothe  (he  passions,  to  soften  the  manners, 
and  even  to  humanize  barbarous  and  savage 
dispositions. 

On  this  account,  Socrates  himself  was  not 


130 


FLOWERS  QF 


ashamed  when  pretty  far  advanced  in  years,  to 
learn  to  play  on  musical  instruments.  And 
Themistocles,  otherwise  so  well  accomplished, 
was  thought  deficient  in  merit,  because  he  could 
not  touch  the  lyre.  Even  Plato,  the  gravest 
philosopher  of  antiquity,  deemed  music  of  such 
importance,  that  in  his  book  of  laws  he  takes 
much  pains  to  prescribe  proper  rules  for  the 
regulation  of  it. 

Dancing  too  was  reckoned  an  essential  part 
in  the  education  of  the  ancient  Greeks.  Its 
principal  aim  with  them  was  to  bestow  on  th© 
body  an  unconstrained  and  easy  motion,  and  a 
graceful  air.  Hence  even  Epaminondas,  one 
of  the  most  perfect  characters  Greece  ever 
produced,  was  praised  for  dancing  gracefully, 
and  for  playing  skilfully  on  the  flute. 

V 

CHAP.  LXIII. 

Of  Pindar. 

% 

PINDAR  was  a  famous  Lyric  poet.  His  dis¬ 
tinguishing  characteristics  arc  grancWp,  cubli- 
mity,  and  enthusiasm.  His  writings  have  given 
us  a  standard  of  the  greatest  elevation  and 
transport,  to  which  it  is  possible  for  poetry  to 
be  advanced.— There  is  something  so  vast  in 
his  designs,  so  strong  and  lively  in  his  thoughts, 
and  so  pompous  and  daring  in  his  expressions 
and  measures,  that  it  requires  scarce  less  at¬ 
tention  to  read  him  than  to  imitate  others.  For 
which  reason  his  muse  has  been  censured  as 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


131 


too  unbridled  and  irregular.  But  the  design 
of  an  ode  being  not  §o  much  to  inform  our 
judgment  as  to  raise  our  fancy,  this  irregular¬ 
ity  is  not  the  least  of  its  beauties.  It  is  agree¬ 
able  to  the  rapture  which  the  poet  feels.  His 
spirits  are  too  much  in  a  ferment,  and  his  fancy 
too  much  upon  the  wing,  to  stay  for  words  to 
express  himself  methodically. 

Pindar  may  be  said  to  occupy  a  distinct  place 
among  the  poets,  and  to  be  entirely  without  a 
rival;  for,  according  to  Horace,  it  is  temerity 
to  attempt  to  emulate  him.  He  was  a  native 
of  Thebes  in  Beotia,  and  nourished  about  498 
years  before  Christ. 

CHAP.  LXIY. 

Of  JZlschylus,  Sophocles,  Euripides ,  and  Aris¬ 
tophanes. 

iESCHYLUS,  the  father  of  tragedy,  was 
contemporary  with  Pindar.  He  made  choice 
of  grand  and  interesting  subjects,  infused  life 
and  spirit  into  the  dialogue,  dictated  (be  lan¬ 
guage  of  passion,  and  excited  terror  and  com¬ 
passion.  B^  introducing  a  chorus  between  the 
acts,  be  procured  a  sort  of  relaxation  to  the 
audience.  His  language  is  pompous  and  sub¬ 
lime,  but  sometimes  obscure,  and  bordering  on 
bombast. 

Sophocles  made  such  improvements  in  the 
tragic  strain,  that  he  foiled  his  master  iEschy- 
lus  iu  the  first  piece  he  presented.  They  had 


1 32 


FLOWERS  OF 


both  of  them  a  lofty  genius,  but  Sophocles  had 
a  greater  command  of  it;  so  that  he  is  not  so 
sublime  in  his  expressions  as  the  other,  but 
more  eloquent  and  more  intelligible.  He  had 
also  a  more  artful  wav  of  touching  the  pas¬ 
sions,  and  by  an  agreeable  mixture  of  terror 
and  pity,  left  more  pleasing  impressions  on  the 
audience.  From  the  sweetness  of  his  verses 
lie  was  surnamed  the  /.fee,  and  the  Flower  of 
poets.  He  is  still  more  remarkable  for  his  con¬ 
duct,  which  appears  in  his  working  up,  and  un¬ 
ravelling  his  plots,  and  his  interesting  the  cho¬ 
rus  in  the  mean  action,  so  as  to  make  the  play 
all  of  a  piece.  It  is  said  he  died  in  a  trans¬ 
port  of  joy  upon  the  success  of  his  last  piece. 

His  rival  Furinides  contented  himself  with 

M 

a  lower  strain  and  endeavored  to  he  more  elab¬ 
orate  and  correct,  more  moral  and  sententious,  * 
and  to  instruct  as  well  as  to  please,  so  that 
what  he  wants  in  the  contrivance  of  his  fables, 
he  makes  up  in  nature  and  good  sense.  It  is 
much  for  the  honor  of  this  poet,  that  after  the 
last  great  defeat  of  the  Athenians  before  Syra¬ 
cuse,  many  of  the  prisoners  were  released  only 
for  repeating  some  of  his  verses. 

Comedy  at  the  same  time  was  advanced  by 
Aristarchus,  Cratinus,  and  others;  but  the 
greatest  and  most  noble  genius  of  this  kind 
was  Aristophanes.  At  the  same  time  that  he 
diverted  the  Athenians  with  his  pleasantry,  he 
also  awed  them  with  his  .satire,  and  attacked 
them  in  the  tenderest  part,  their  superstition. 
It  must  be  owned  his  ridicule  was  often  too 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


135 


gross,  and  that  he  was  not  master  of  that  fine 
raillery  which  is  so  essential  to  comedy;  but 
yet  he  may  be  esteemed  perfect  in  his  kind,  as 
he  wrote  in  the  time  of  the  old  comedy,  which 
allowed  a  liberty  of  presenting  things  on  the 
stage,  without  any  disguise  of  persons  and 
names. 


CHAP.  LXV. 

Of  Herodotus  and  Thucydides • 

HERODOTUS  of  Halicarnassus,  a  city  of 
Caria,  is  looked  upon  as  the  father  of  history. 
He  was  born  a  few  years  before  the  expedition 
of  Xerxes  into  Greece.  His  history  begins 
with  the  reign  of  Cyrus,  and  ends  with  the  sea- 
engagement  at  Mycale.  His  digressions,  which 
relate  to  the  Egyptians  and  other  people,  are 
in  a  great  measure  fabulous,  because  he  trust¬ 
ed  to  the  traditions  of  the  priests.  It  must  be 
owned  too,  that  he  is  not  always  to  be  depended 
on,  in  his  relation  of  circumstances  which  hap¬ 
pened  in  his  own  time.  He  was  too  fond  of 
the  marvellous,  to  be  able  to  distinguish  the 
truth. 

Herodotus  studied  to  please  the  Greeks,  by 
flattering  their  credulous  vanity.  He  read  his 
history  at  the  Olympic  games,  and  afterwards 
at  one  of  the  most  splendid  festivals  of  Athens. 
This  procured  him  universal  applause. 

Thucydides,  who  was  then  young,  happened 
to  be  present,  and  being  transported  with  a  de- 

M 


434 


TLOAVERS  OF 


gree  of  enthusiasm,  melted  into  tears,  as  if  it 
had  . been  a  theatrical  representation.  This 
proof  of  genius  and  sensibility  being  observed 
*>y  the  author,  he  advised  the  father  of  the 
young  man  to  cultivate  such  promising  parts 
with  all  possible  attention. 

A  single  example  at  an  early  period  of  life, 
is  often  sufficient  to  rouse  a  superior  genuis, 
and  to  direct  its  future  course.  From  that 
time,  Thucydides  dedicated  his  attention  to 
study,  and  while  he  served  in  the  Peloponne¬ 
sian  war,  his  mind  was  constantly  taken  up 
with  the  thoughts  of  writing  its  history.  He 
examined  every  thing,  collected  materials,  and 
made  accurate  memorandums  of  every  tran¬ 
saction.  Having  lived  in  exile  many  years,  he 
had  sufficient  leisure  to  execute  his  purpose; 
and  at  his  return,  to  his  native  city,  upon  the 
expulsion  of  the  thirty  tyrants,  he  put  the 
last  hand  to  that  excellent  work,  which  com¬ 
prehends  the  history  of  the  first  twenty  years 
of  the  war.  The  gravity  of  his  style,  and  the 
soundness  of  his  judgment,  evidently  shew  that 
he  was  more  solicitous  to  instruct  than  to  please 
his  readers. 


CHAP.  LX VI. 

Of  Xenophon. 

XENOPHON,  an  eminent  historian  and 

* 

commander,  was  a  native  of  Athens.  When 
Cyrus,  the  younger  son  of  Darius,  applied  to 


A  JVC  I  ENT  HISTORY. 


135 


the  Greeks  lor  their  assistance  against  his  bro¬ 
ther  Artaxerxes,  Xenophon  went  with  the  Gre¬ 
cian  forces  on  their  expedition  into  Persia,  and 
accepted  a  command  in  the  army  under  Cyrus. 
That  prince  was  slain  in  battle  near  Babylon, 
and  the  Grecian  army  in  the  greatest  dejection, 
when  Xenophon  made  the  famous  retreat  with 
his  10,000  Greeks  from  the  extreme  parts  of 
Pe  rsia.  After  his  return  he  served  as  a  sol¬ 
dier  till  the  time  of  Agesilaus,  when  he  was 
banished  by  the  Athenians,  on  an  unjust  sus¬ 
picion  of  favoring  the  Lacedemonians,  because 
he  always  possessed  a  high  opinion  of  the  Spar¬ 
tan  laws. 

During  his  exile  he  composed  his  works, 
namely,  the  Cyropedeia,  or  history  of  Cyrus 
the  Great;  the  Expedition,  or  Retreat  of  the 
10,000  Greeks;  and,  the  Continuation  of  the 
History  of  Thucydides,  from  the  return  of  Al- 
eibiades  into  Attica,  to  the  battle  of  Mantinea, 
comprehending  the  space  of  forty-eight  years. 
These  works  display  a  vast  extent  of  genius 
and  learning,  and  clearly  evince  the  writer  to 
have  been  a  skillful  commander,  a  judicious 
philosopher,  and  an  elegant  historian. 

It  is  a  question  among  the  learned,  whether 
his  Cyropedeia  ought  to  he  looked  upon  as  a 
real  history  or  only  as  a  philosophical  romance. 
The  last  opinion  is  maintained  by  the  ablest 
critics;  and  indeed  the  arguments  adduced  by 
them  appear  so  solid  and  convincing,  that  we 
are  surprised  the  matter  should  continue  longer 
doubtful.  '  > 


.t  m 


FLOWERS  OE 


CHAP.  LXVII. 

Of  Plutarch . 

THERE  is  not  a  Greek  historian  whose 
history  can  be  read  with  more  advantage  than 
Plutarch  the  contemporary  of  Nero,  because 
he  makes  his  readers  acquainted  with  men,  and 
particularly  with  celebrated  characters;  and  be¬ 
cause  his  writings  are  animated  with  sound  mo¬ 
rality.  He  is  sometimes  mistaken;  but  he  ne¬ 
ver  fails  to  engage  and  instruct. 

Plutarch  shews  himself  on  all  occasions  to 
be  a  great  painter;  and  his  style,  though  plain 
and  simple,  is  nevertheless  lively  and  expres¬ 
sive. 

The  reading  of  Plutarch’s  Lives,  presents  as 
it  were  before  our  eyes  the  great  men  of  whom 
he  speaks,  and  give  ns  an  idea  of  their  beha¬ 
vior  and  manners,  as  lively  and  as  strong,  as 
if  we  were  living  and  conversing  with  them. 

CHAP.  LXVII I. 

Of  Socrates. 

SOCRATES,  the  famous  Greek  philoso¬ 
pher,  was  born  at  Athens,  about  451  years  be¬ 
fore  Christ.  He  gave  early  proofs  of  his  valor 
in  the  service  of  his  country;  but  chiefly  ap¬ 
plied  himself  to  the  study  of  philosophy,  and 
was  a  person  of  irresistible  eloquence,  and  ae* 
complished  virtue. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


137 


His  distinguishing  characteristic  was  a  per¬ 
fect  tranquility  of  mind,  which  enabled  him  to 
support  with  patience  the  most  troublesome  ac¬ 
cidents  of  life.  He  used  to  beg  of  those,  with 
whom  he  usually  conversed,  to  put  him  on  his 
guard  the  moment  they  perceived  in  him  the 
first  emotions  of  anger;  and  when  they  did  so> 
he  instantly  resumed  perfect  composure  and 
complacency.  His  wife  Xantippe,  a  woman  of 
the  most  whimsical  and  provoking  temper,  af¬ 
forded  him  sufficient  opportunity  of  exercising 
his  patience,  by  the  revilings  and  abuse  with 
which  she  was  constantly  loading  him. 

Socrates  possessed,  in  a  supreme  degree,  the 
talent  of  reasoning.  His  principal  employment 
was  the  instruction  of  youth,  an  object  to  which 
he  directed  all  his  care  and  attention.  He  kept, 
however,  no  fixed  public  school,  but  took  every 
opportunity,  without  regarding  times  or  places, 
of  conveying  to  them  his  precepts,  and  that  in 
the  most  enticing  and  agreeable  manner.  His 
lessons  were  so  universally  relished,  that  the 
moment  he  appeared,  whether  in, the  public  as¬ 
semblies,  walks,  or  feasts,  he  was  surrounded 
with  a  throng  of  the  most  illustrious  scholars 
and  hearers.  The  young  Athenians  quitted 
even  their  pleasures  to  listen  to  the  discourse  of 
Socrates. 

He  greatly  exerted  himself  against  the  pow¬ 
er  of  the  thirty  tyrants,  and  in  the  behalf  of 
Theramenes,  whom  they  had  condemned  to 
death;  insomuch  that  they  became  so  alarmed 

m  % 


138 


VjCiO WERS  OK 


at  liis  behavior,  that  t hey  forbad  him  to  instruct 
the  Athenian  youth. 

Soon  after,  an  accusation  was  formally  ex¬ 
hibited  against  him  by  Melitus,  containing  in 
substance,  “That  he  did  not  acknowledge  the 
gods  of  the  republic,  but  introduced  new  dei¬ 
ties  in  their  room;”  and  further,  ‘‘That  he  cor¬ 
rupted  the  youth.”  He  urged,  in  his  defence, 
that  he  had  assisted,  as  others  did,  at  the  sacri¬ 
fices  and  solemn  festivals,  and  appealed  to  Me¬ 
litus  himself  for  the  truth  of  it.  He  denied  his 
endeavoring  to  establish  any  new  worship.  He 
owned,  indeed,  he  had  received  frequent  ad¬ 
monitions  from  a  divine  voice,  which  he  called 
his  Genius,  that  constantly  attended  him,  and 
discovered  to  him  future  events;  that  he  had 
often  made  use  of  this  divine  assistance  for  the 
service  of  himself  and  his  friends;  but,  that  if 
he  had  been  thus  particularly  favored  by  Hea¬ 
ven,  it  was  owing  chiefly  to  the  regularity  of 
his  life  and  conduct;  and  that  the  approbation 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  which  was  given  him  as 
a  reward  for  his  virtue,  ought  not  to  be  objec¬ 
ted  to  him  as  his  crime. 

Then,  as  to  the  other  article,  wherein  he  was 
accused  of  corrupting  the  youth,  and  teaching 
them  to  despise  the  settled  laws,  and  order  of 
the  commonwealth,  he  said,  he  had  no  other 
view  in  his  conversation  with  them,  than  to  re¬ 
gulate  their  morals;  that  as  he  could  not  do  this 
with  any  public  authority,  he  was  therefore  for¬ 
ced  to  insinuate  himself  into  their  company,  and 
to  use,  in  a  manner,  the  same  methods  to  re¬ 
claim,  which  others  did  to  corrupt  theim 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


139 


How  far  the  whole  charge  affected  him,  it  is 
not  easy  to  determine.  It  is  certain  that  amidst 
so  much  zeal  and  superstition  as  then  reigned 
in  Athens,  he  never  durst  openly  oppose  the  re¬ 
ceived  religion,  and  was  therefore  obliged  to 
preserve  an  outward  shew  of  it.  But  it  is  very 
probable  from  the  discourses  he  frequently  held 
with  his  friends,  that  in  his  heart,  he  despised 
and  laughed  at  their  monstrous  opinions,  and 
ridiculous  mysteries,  as  having  no  other  foun¬ 
dation  than  the  fables  of  the  poets;  and  that  he 
had  attained  to  a  notion  of  the  one,  onlv  true 
God;  insomuch  that,  upon  the  account  of  his  be¬ 
lief  of  the  Deity,  and  his  exemplary  life,  some 
have  thought  fit  to  rank  him  with  Christian 
philosophers.  And  indeed  his  behavior  upon 
his  trial,  was  more  like  that  of  a  Christian 
martyr,  than  of  an  impious  pagan;  where  he 
appeared  with  such  a  composed  confidence  as 
naturally  results  from  innocence,  and  rather, 
as  Cicero  observes,  as  if  he  were  to  determine 
upon  his  judges,  than  to  supplicate  them  as  a 
criminal. 

But  how  slight  soever  the  proofs  were  against 
him,  the  faction  wras  powerful  enough  to  find 
him  guilty.  There  was  a  form  of  process  against 
him,  and  his  irreligion  was  the  pretence  upon 
which  it  was  grounded;  but  his  death  was  cer¬ 
tainly  a  concerted  thing. 

His  steady,  uninterrupted  course  of  obstinate 
virtue,  which  had  made  him  in  many  cases  ap¬ 
pear  singular,  and  oppose  whatever  he  thought 
illegal  or  unjust,  without  any  regard  to  times 


140 


FLOWERS  OR 


or  persons,  had  procured  him  a  great  deal  of 
envy  and  ill-will;  insomuch,  that  he  had  seve¬ 
ral  years  before,  been  publicly  attacked  upon 
the  stage  in  a  play,  called  the  Clouds,  where  he 
is  introduced  as  the  author  of  many  gross  im¬ 
pieties;  which  some  say,  Aristophanes  wrote 
out  of  a  personal  pique  to  him;  others,  that  he 
did  it  only,  according  to  the  liberty  then  indul¬ 
ged  in  the  state,  and  intended,  in  the  person  of 
Socrates,  to  expose  and  ridicule  the  philoso¬ 
phers  in  general.  But  most  are  of  opinion, 
that  it  was  at  the  instigation  of  Anytus,  who 
looked  upon  him  as  a  dangerous  man,  and  took 
that  method  to  prepare  the  people  for  his  con¬ 
demnation,  whenever  an  opportunity  should  of¬ 
fer.  This  agrees  with  the  terms  proposed  to 
him,  even  after  the  accusation  was  given  in, 
when  perhaps  he  was  not  sure  of  carrying  his 
point  against  him.  He  hinted  to  him,  that  if 
he  would  talk  less  freely,  and  not  take  upon  him 
to  censure  and  arraign  the  administration,  he 
would  yet  endeavor  to  stifle  the  affair,  and  save 
him.  It  was  upon  the  same  account  that  he  was 
forbid  conversing  with  the  young  men.  Those 
at  the  helm  were  jealous  of  his  tampering  with 
them,  in  relation  to  the  government;  and  this 
seems  tq  be  the  ground  of  that  part  of  his  accu¬ 
sation.  But  he  was  not  to  be  bought  by  bribes, 
not  deterred  by  menaces;  in  short,  he  had  more 
plainness  and  integrity  than  the  times  would 
bear;  and  therefore  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  cor¬ 
ruption  of  those,  whom  his  honesty  had  made 
his  enemies. 


ANCIENT  HISTOliY. 


141 


It  was  a  privilege  in  Alliens,  after  convic¬ 
tion,  to  demand  a  mitigation  of  the  punishment. 
But  that,  he  said,  would  he  owning  himself 
guilty;  and  he  cdiose  rather  to  defy  and  incense 
his  judges;  so  that  they  unanimously  passed 
sentence  of  death  upon  him,  hy  drinking  the  juice 
of  hemlock,  which  was  not  put  in  execution  un¬ 
til  thirty  days  after;  during  which  time,  he  con¬ 
versed  with  his  friends,  with  the  same  evenness 

and  serenitv  of  mind  he  had  ever  done  before. 
•• 

And  though  they  had  bribed  the  jailor  for  his 
escape,  he  refused  it,  as  an  ungenerous  viola¬ 
tion  of  the  law  s.  He  was  about  seventy  years 
old  when  he  suffered;  which  made  him  say,  he 
thought  himself  happy  to  quit  life,  at  a  time 
when  it  begins  to  be  troublesome;  and  that  his 
death  was  rather  a  deliverance  than  a  punish¬ 
ment. 

Cicero  has  described,  with  great  elegance, 
the  lofty  sentiments  and  magnanimous  beha¬ 
vior  of  Socrates  at  his  death,  While  he  held 
the  fatal  cup  in  his  hand,  he  declared,  that  he 
considered  death  not  as  a  punishment  inflicted 
on  him,  but  as  a  help  furnished  him  of  arriving 
so  much  sooner  at  heaven.  He  gives  it  as  his 
opinion,  that  upon  the  departure  of  our  souls 
from  our  bodies,  there  are  two  passages  for 
conducting  them  to  the  places  of  their  eternal 
destination,  one  leading  to  never-ending  pun¬ 
ishment,  which  receives  those  souls,  that  dur¬ 
ing  their  residence  on  earth,  have  contamina^ 
ted  themselves  with  many  great  crimes;  the 
other  leading  to  a  state  of  felicity  and  blissj 


FLOWERS  OF 


142 

which  receives  the  souls  of  those  who  have 
lived  virtuously  in  the  world. 

When  Socrates  had  finished  his  discourse, 
he  bathed  himself.  His  children  being  then 
brought  to  him,  he  spoke  to  them  a  little,  and 
then  desired  them  to  be  taken  away.  The  hour 
appointed  for  drinking  the  hemlock  being  come, 
they  brought  him  the  cup,  which  he  received 
without  any  emotion,  and  then  addressed  a 
prayer  to  Heaven.  It  is  highly  reasonable, 
said  he,  to  offer  my  prayers  to  the  Supreme 
Being  on  this  occasion,  and  to  beseech  him  to 
render  my  departure  from  earth,  and  my  last 
journey,  happy.  Then  he  drank  of  the  poi¬ 
son  with  amazing  tranquility.  Observing  his 
friends,  in  this  fatal  moment,  weeping,  and 
dissolved  in  tears,  he  reproved  them  with  great 
mildness,  asking  them,  whether  their  virtue  had 
deserted  them;  “for,”  added  he,  “I  have  always 
heard,  that  it  is  our  duty  calmly  to  resign  our 
breath,  giving  thanks  to  God.”  After  walking 
about  a  little  while,  perceiving  the  poison  be¬ 
ginning  to  work,  he  lay  down  on  his  couch, 
and  a  few  moments  after,  breathed  his  last. 
Cicero  declares  that  he  could  never  read  the  ac¬ 
count  of  the  death  of  Socrates,  without  shed¬ 
ding  tears. 

Soon  after  his  death,  the  Athenians  were 
convinced  of  his  innocence,  and  considered  all 
the  misfortunes  which  afterwards  befel  the  re¬ 
public,  as  a  punishment  for  the  injustice  of  his 
sentence.  When  the  academy,  and  other  places 
of  the  city,  where  he  had  taught,  presented 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


145 

themselves  to  the  view  of  his  countrymen,  they 
could  not  refrain  from  reflecting  on  the  reward 
bestowed  by  them,  on  one  who  had  done  them 
such  important  services.  They  cancelled  the 
decree,  which  had  condemned  him;  put  Meli- 
tus  to  death;  banished  his  other  accusers;  and 
erected  to  his  memory  a  statue  of  brass,  which 
was  executed  by  the  famous  Lysippus. 

CHAP.  LXIX.  t 
Of  Plato . 

PLATO  was  a  native  of  Athens,  and  the 
most  famous  disciple  of  Socrates.  He  did  not 
coniine  himself,  like  his  master,  to  the  subject 
of  morals  alone,  hut  studied  every  branch  of 
philosophy.  His  thirst  after  know  ledge,  promp¬ 
ted  him  to  travel  into  Egypt,  where  he  learned 
from  the  priests  various  branches  of  knowledge, 
generally  unknown.  His  works  abound  with 
the  most  lofty  sentiments,  and  with  the  most 
useful  maxims  for  the  conduct  of  life,  and  for 
the  science  of  government. 

His  accurate  notions  about  the  existence  of 
God,  and  the  immortality  of  the  sou!,  are  gen¬ 
erally  thought  to  have  been  communicated  to 
him  by  the  Egyptians. 

He  declined  engaging  in  the  affairs  of  the 
republic,  preferring  the  calm  unruftled  life  of 
a  philosopher.  He  was  very  highly  esteemed 
for  the  mildness  of  his  manners;  and  was  so 
much  admired  on  account  of  his  vast  extent  of 


144 


f LOWERS  OE 


knowledge,  and  his  sublime  sentiments,  that  he 
was  honored  with  the  name  of  the  Divine  Plato. 
Even  kings  desired  to  be  directed  by  his  coun¬ 
sels.  He  died  at  eighty  years  of  age. 

His  nephew,  Speusippus,  succeeded  him  in 
his  school.  But  his  scholars  after  his  death, 
distinguished  themselves  into  two  sects;  the 
followers  of  the  one  taking  the  name  of  Aca¬ 
demicians,  and  continuing  to  teach  in  the  same 
place  where  Plato  had  taught;  and  those  of  the 
other  part  of  Peripatetics,  who  gave  their  les¬ 
sons  in  the  Lyceum. 

CHAP.  LXX. 

Of  Aristotle. 

ARISTOTLE  was  a  native  of  Stagira,  a 
eity  of  Macedonia.  He  came  to  Athens  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  studied  philosophy  under 
Plato,  and  applied  with  such  industry  and  suc¬ 
cess  to  the  study  of  his  master’s  doctrines,  that 
he  became  the  soul  of  his  school. 

On  the  birth  of  Alexander,  Philip  wrote  to 
him,  that  he  intended  to  make  him  preceptor 
to  his  son.  After  spending  several  years  in  the 
education  of  Alexander,  he  returned  to  Athens, 
opened  a  school  in  the  Lyceum,  and  became 
the  founder  of  the  Peripatetic  sect.  Hi%  lec¬ 
tures  drew  together  a  vast  crowd  of  hearers. 

But  he  did  not  entirely  confine  himself  to 
philosophical  disquisitions.  He  also  gave  les¬ 
sons  on  rhetoric,  and  composed  a  treatise  on 


ANCIliNT  HISTORY. 


1 1  5 


chat  subject,  which  has  been  justly  regarded 
by  the  learned  of  all  ages,  as  the  most  accu¬ 
rate  and  complete  that  has  ever  appeared. 

Aristotle^  met  with  the  fate  of  vinost  great 
men.  He  attracted  the  enmity  of  his  contem¬ 
poraries,  who  accused  him  of  impiety;  and  one 
JSurymedon  appeared  as  his  prosecutor.  To 
disappoint  the  malice  of  Iris  enemies,  and  to 
avoid  the  unhappy  fate  of  Socrates,  he  fled  to 
the  island  of  Eubiea,  where  he  ended  his  da  vs. 

His  works,  after  remaining  130  years  hurled 
in  oblivion,  came  to  light  at  last,  and  were 
justly  adopted,  as  the  most  perfect  standard,  on 
every  subject  there  handled.  The  surprising 
diversity  of  those  subjects,  the  profound  eru¬ 
dition,  the  wonderful  acuteness,  and  the  singu¬ 
lar  accuracy  with  which  every  point  is  treated 
of,  sufficiently  evince  the  comprehensive  genius 
of  the  author.  A  course  of  observations  and 
experiments  for  many  ages,  has  indeed  produ¬ 
ced  the  discovery  of  various  secrets  of  nature, 
of  which  Aristotle  seems  to  have  betn  ignorant, 
and  which  no  force  of  genius  ever  could  divine. 
But  in  every  matter  of  science,  those  who  are 
the  best  acquainted  wish  his  philosophy,  and 
that  of  the  most  approved  modern  philosophers, 
are  struck  with  amazement  at  his  vast  supe¬ 
riority. 


146 


FLOWERS  0* 


CHAP.  LXXL 

Of  hcmosthcnes. 

ELOQUENCE  could  not  faii  to  flourish  in 
a  city  where  fame  and  fortune  were  sure  to 
follow  popular  applause.;  where  it  acquired  a 
power  in  all  deliberations,  even  those  of  the  re¬ 
public;  and  where  the  most  eloquent  man  be¬ 
came  likewise  the  most  powerful. 

Let  us  not  then  he  surprised  that  Demos¬ 
thenes,  a  citizen  of  Athens,  actuated  by  these 
motives,  made  such  extraordinary  efforts  to  ex¬ 
cel  in  this  pursuit.  The  weakness  of  his  voice, 
and  a  defect  in  his  pronunciation,  occasioned 
his  being  hissed  upon  his  flrst  attempt  to  speak 
in  public.  A  comedian,  to  whom  in  despair  he 
lamented  his  misfortune,  comforted  him  by  say- 
ing,  that  lie  could  find  an  easy  remedy.  He 
made  him  rehearse  some  verses,  which  he  him¬ 
self  afterwards  repeated  with  such  energy  and 
grace,  that  Demosthenes  found  they  had  quite 
a  different  effect.  This  experiment  convinced 
the  young  orator,  that  his  success  in  a  great 
measure  depended  upon  action;  he  therefore 
built  himself  a  vault,  where  he  might  practice 
without  relaxation  or  disturbance,  for  months 
together.  Sometimes,  that  he  might  accustom 
himself  to  noise,  he  went  and  declaimed  on  the 
sea-shore;  at  other  times,  on  purpose  to  loosen 
his  tongue,  he  spoke  with  small  stones  in  his 
mouth,  while  walking  or  climbing.  What  is  it 
that  the  love  of  labor,  joined  to  ambition,  is  not 
able  to  accomplish?  Demosthenes  got  the  bet- 


ANCIEXT  HISTORY 


19 

1/ 


ter  of  nature,  and  by  his  eloquence  ruled  as  he 
pleased.  Eschincs  shrunk  in  his  presence. 
Neither  Demades  nor  Phocion  could  oppose 
him.  The  thunder  of  his  eloquence  carried  all 
before  him,  and  was  more  dreaded  by  Philip 
than  all  the  fleets  and  armies  of  Athens. 

The  states  of  Greece,  influenced  by  his  elo¬ 
quence,  joined  in  opposition  to  the  growing 
power  of  Philip,  and  Alexander  his  son  and 
successor.  But  notwithstanding  this  generous 
and  honest  attention  of  Demosthenes  to  the 
public  weal,  and  after  he  had  withstood  all  the 
offers  of  Philip,  insomuch  that  it  is  observed 
by  Plutarch,  “that  all  the  gold  of  Macedonia 
could  not  bribe  him,”  he  gave  occasion  to  his 
enemies  to  accuse  him  of  this  crime,  by  re¬ 
ceiving  a  cup,  and  a  sum  of  money  besides, 
from  Harpalus,  a  Macedonian  lord,  who  had 
revolted  from  Alexander,  and  fled  to  Athens  for 
refuge.  It  was  debated  by  the  people,  whether 
they  should  admit  him,  for  fear  of  incurring 
his  master’s  displeasure,  and  involving  them¬ 
selves  in  a  war;  and  Demosthenes  considering 
it  in  that  light,  opposed  it.  Harpalus,  to  re¬ 
move  ail  difficulties,  dispersed  his  monej  pretty 
liberally  among  the  orators:  and  as  he  was  dis¬ 
playing  his  wealth,  Demosthenes  happened  to 
fix  his  eyes  on  a  rich  golden  cup,  which  had 
belonged  to  the  Persian  kings,  and  admiring 
the  sculpture  and  fashion,  asked  the  price  of  it. 
Harpalus  took  the  hint,  and  at  night  sent  it 
home  to  him,  together  with  twenty  talents  in. 
money. 

The  next  day  Demosthenes  appeared  in  the 


FLOWERS  OF 


JUbS 

assembly,  having  his  throat  muffled  about;  and 
when  he  was  desired  to  speak  to  the  point  in 
question,  he  made  signs  that  he  had  lost  his 
voice.  But  his  transaction  with  Harpalus  had 
taken  air;  and  w  hen  he  found  himself  detected, 
he  rose  up  to  excuse  it;  but  the  people  were  so 
enraged  that  they  would  not  hear  him.  Where¬ 
upon  a  certain  wag  stood  up  and  said,  “What, 
will  ye  not  hear  the  king’s  cup-hearer?”  Others 
said,  “The  orator,  it  would  appear,  lias  got  a 
silver  quinzy.” 

Demosthenes,  therefore,  not  being  able  to 
clear  himself  from  the  charge,  was  fined  and 
imprisoned.  He  afterwards  escaped  from  his 
confinement,  and  left  his  country.  In  a  short 
time,  however,  he  was  recalled  by  a  decree  of 
the  people. 

After  the  death  of  Alexander,  upon  a  report 
that  Antipater  and  Craterus,  his  successors, 
were  coming  to  Athens,  Demosthenes  and  his 
party,  w  ithdrew  themselves  privately  out  of  the 
city.  Demosthenes  went  to  Calabria  in  the 
Ionian  sea,  where  he  put  an  end  to  his  life  by 
poison,  saying  to  Archias,  the  captain  who  was 
sent  after  him,  and  intreated  his  return,  “Go, 
and  let  thy  master  know,  that  Demosthenes, 
will  not,  on  any  account,  be  obliged  to  the 
usurpers  of  fils  country,”  After  his  death,  the 
Athenians  paid  him  the  highest  honors;  am!  a 
statue  was  erected  to  his  memory. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


149 


CHAP.  LXXIf. 


Of  Antisthenes  and  Diogenes. 

ANTI  STHENE S  a  disciple  of  Socrates, 
founded  the  sect  of  the  Cynics,  so  celebrated 
for  the  austerity  of  its  maxims,  and  the  auda¬ 
city  of  its  followers.  Being  contented  with 
only  a  cloak,  a  wallet,  and  a  staff,  for  their 
whole  property  they  seemed  to  think  them¬ 
selves  entitled  to  censure  all  the  rest  of  the 
world. 

Antisthenes  made  happiness  to  consist  solely 
in  virtue.  Upon  being  asked,  of  what  use  his 
philosophy  was  to  him,  he  replied,  “To  keep 
me  in  friendship  with  myself.”  Whilst  a  priest 
was  initiating  him  in  the  mysteries  of  Orpheus, 
and  praising  the  happiness  of  a  future  state,  he 
bluntly  said,  “Wherefore  do  you  not  die  then?” 
He  was  a  sour  misanthrope,  more  likely  to 
make  virtue  detested  by  his  harshness,  than 
loved  by  his  example. 

The  famous  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  who  was 
banished  from  his  country  for  making  counter¬ 
feit  money,  insisted  upon  being  one  of  his  dis¬ 
ciples.  Antisthenes  rejected  him,  and  even 
threatened  to  strike  him.  “Strike,”  cried  the 
enthusiastic  proselyte,  “but  you  will  not  find  a 
staff  sufficiently  strong  to  make  me  withdraw 
while  you  are  to  be  heard.” 

Diogenes  took  the  wallet,  and  foregoing 
every  thing,  lived  in  a  cask,  where  he  declared 
open  war  against  vice,  without  respect  of  per¬ 
sons.  He  was  sometimes  answered  by  having 


150 


FLOWERS  OF 


stones  thrown  at  him,  ami  at  other  times  by 
throwing  bones  to  him,  as  to  a  surly  dog,  whieji 
only  served  to  make  him  more  bold  and  inso¬ 
lent.  “ I  tread  the  pride  of  Plato  under  my 
feet,”  said  he,  one  day.  “Yes,”  replied  that 
philosopher,  “but  it  is  with  another  kind  of 
pride.”  Such  a  system  of  philosophy  was  at 
bottom  nothing  better  than  au  insult  to  huma¬ 
nity.  - 

Of  the  many  maxims  which  have  been  as- 
eribed  to  Diogenes,  the  following  seems  the 
most  remarkable.  “Choose  good  people  for 
your  friends,  that  they  may  encourage  you  to 
do  what  is  right;  and  the  wicked  for  enemies 
that  they  may  hinder  you  from  being  wicked.” 

CHAP.  LXXIII. 

Of  Zeno ,  and  the  Stoics, 

ZENO,  born  at  Citium,  in  the  isle  of  Cy¬ 
prus,  was  the  founder  of  the  sect  of  the  Stoics* 
He  had  formerly  been  a  merchant,  but  having 
been  ship-wrecked,  (ah  accident  upon  which  he 
often  congratulated  himself,)  he  took  the  op¬ 
portunity  of  commencing  the  study  of  philoso¬ 
phy  at  Athens.  He  was  much  esteemed  by  the 
Athenians  for  the  purity  of  his  precepts,  which 
lie  himself  practised  with  the  greatest  exact¬ 
ness;  and  the  zeal  with  which  he  Inculcated  the 
principles  of  virtue. 

The  chief  aim  of  the  Stoics  was  to  render 
themselves  insensible  to  the  miseries  incident 
to  human  life.  For  that  purpose  they  labored 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


i  3i> 

to  convince  themselves,  that  “every  thing  which 
happens  is  for  the  best.”  A  perfect  Sloic  did 
not  regard  even  pain  as  an  evil.  Their  philo¬ 
sophy  was  calculated  to  render  them  entirely 
devoid  of  passion,  and  of  frailty.  Bui  it  should 
seem  that  to  reform  nature,  they  meant  to  ex- 
tlnguish  it  altogether,’  for  they  must  have 
known  that  passion  is  constitutionally  inherent 
in  man. 

Plutarch  judiciously  observes,  that  the  doc¬ 
trine  of  the  Stoics  was  dangerous  for  a  warm 
temper,  prone  to  excess;  but  that,  in  a  mild 
and  steady  disposition,  it  performed  wonders. 
“One  part  of  valuable  knowledge,”  said  Zeno, 
“is  to  be  ignorant  of  what  we  ought  not  to 
know.”  This  maxim  is  a  sufficient  encomium 
of  Zeno. 

It  must  be  allowed,  that  the  Stoics  were,  of 
all  the  ancient  philosophers,  the  most  virtuous, 
both  in  point  of  principles  and  of  practice;  and 
that  some  of  the  greatest  and  wisest  men  of 
antiquity  were  formed  hi  their  school.  Clean- 
thes,  Chrysippus,  Pansetius,  and  Epictetes, 
h%ve  not  done  greater  credit  to  Stoicism,  than 
the  virtues  of  Cato,  Antoninus,  and  Marcus 
Aurelius. 

“If  I  could  cease,  but  for  one  moment,  to 
think  that  I  am  a  Christian,”  says  Montes¬ 
quieu,  “I  could  not  help  thinking  the  destruc¬ 
tion  of  the  sect  of  Zeno,  among  the  misfortunes 
which  have  befallen  mankind.”  They  carried 
nothing  to  excess,  but  what  served  to  elevate 
the  mind  of  man,  by  teaching  him  to  despise 
both  pain  and  pleasure.  The  Stoics  alone 
knew  how  to.  form  good  citizens  qr  great  men. 


FLOWEltS  Of5 


152 

CHAP.  LXXIT. 

Of  Pythagoras. 

IT  was  not  in  the  time  of  Nmna,  as  mim 
hers  have  supposed,  hut  in  that  of  Tarquin  the 
Proud,  that  I  his  great  man  did  so  much  honor 
to  Greece,  and  so  much  good  to  Italy.  He  was 
believed  to  be  a  native  of '  Samos/ and  having 
heard  the  reasonings  of  a  philosopher  upon  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  immediately  devoted 
himself,  in  a  kind  of  enthusiasm,  to  the  study 
of  philosophy.  He  travelled  into  Egypt,  Phoe¬ 
nicia,  Chaldea,  and  probably  as  far  as  the  In¬ 
dies,  in  quest  of  knowledge.  Though  a  geo¬ 
metrician  and  astronomer,  he  looked  upon  vir¬ 
tue  as  the  first  of  sciences,  and  was  persuaded 
that  he  was  horn  to  make  proselytes. — After 
having  taught  some  time  in  Greece,  he  went 
into  that  part  of  Italy  which  is  called  Magna 
Gracia,  on  account  of  the  colonies  by  which  it 
was  peopled.  Crotona,  Metaphontum,  and  Ta- 
rentum,  where  the  places  in  which  he  chiefly 
resided.  He  did  not  shut  himself  up  in  the 
shade  of  his  closet,  but  openly  harangued  in 
the  cause  of  virtue,  to  reform  the  manners  of 
the  ppople. 

His  opinion  was,  that  there  were  but  five 
things  that  ought  to  be  combatted;  the  diseases 
of  the  body,  the  ignorance  of  the  mind,  the  pas¬ 
sions  of  the  heart,  sedition  in  cities,  and  discord 
in  private  families. 

He  lived  in  the  same  society  with  his  disci¬ 
ples,  and  made  them  submit  to  a  kind  of  novi- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


a  £  c-% 

loo 

tiate,  for  at  least  two  years,  and  some  for  five; 
during  which  time  they  were  to  learn  in  silence 
without  being  entitled  to  inquire  the  reason  of 
his  doctrines,  because  he  did  not  imagine  they 
were  capable  of  reasoning,  until  they  had  im- 
bibed  good  principles. 

lie  taught  them  to  reason,  by  making  them 
acquainted  with  geometry,  without  which  they 
could  not.  discover  an  imposture.  Whatever  he 
said,  was  revered  as  an  oracle.  “The  master 
said  so,”  was  sufficient  to  stop  the  mouths  of 
his  scholars.  Did  he  then  order  a  blind  sub¬ 
mission,  or  did  he  dispel  their  doubts  by  per- 
suasion?  The  true  philosopher  can  never  think 
of  tyrannizing  over  the  human  mind;  and  it  is 
not  probable  that  a  geometrician  would  desire 
to  be  believed  upon  his  word. 

Pythagoras  introduced  into  the  western 
world  a  doctrine  which  he  had  imbibed  some¬ 
where  in  the  east,  w  here,  by  ail  accounts,  it  pre¬ 
vailed  from  the  most  early  ages,  namely,  that 
of  the  Metempsychosis,  or  transmigration  of 
souls;  which  taught,  that  when  men  died,  their 
souls  passed  into  and  animated  other  bodies. 
If,  for  example,  a  man  w  as  vicious  and  w  icked, 
his  soul  animated  the  body  of  some  unclean 
animal,  and  passed  through  a  progress  of  mi¬ 
sery  proportioned  to  his  crimes  in  this  life, 
lienee  Pythagoras  and  his  followers  religiously 
abstained  from  eating  flesh,  lest  perhaps  they 
should  devour  some  of  their  former  friends  and 
acquaintance.  In  all  probability,  the  accounts 
of  this  philosophy  transmitted  to  us  are  very 
imperfect,  and  in  nothing  perhaps  more  so  than 


154 


FLOWERS  OF 


in  its  real  scope  and  meaning.  Let  us,  there¬ 
fore,  on  this  point,  as  on  every  other  of  the 
same  kind,  be  extremely  cautious  in  condemn¬ 
ing- 

CHAP.  LXXV. 

Of  Archimedes.  , 

*  ( 

HAD  Archimedes  lived  in  our  days,  he 
would  have  been  another  Newton.  When  Sy¬ 
racuse  was  besieged,  he  put  in  practice  all  the 
resources  of  his  wonderful  genius  in  machinery 
for  the  defence  of  his  country,  and  rendered 
this  siege  one  of  the  longest  and  most  bloody 
that  ever  the  Homans  undertook. 

The  particulars  recorded  of  the  many  en-> 
gines  invented  by  him,  for  frustrating  the  at¬ 
tacks  of  the  besiegers,  and  to  harrass  them  in 
their  turn,  are  so  extraordinary  and  wonderful 
as  to  exceed  all  credibility,  were  they  not  re¬ 
counted  by  the  gravest  and  most  credible  his¬ 
torians.  Some  of  those  engines  discharged 
against  the  Homan  infantry  stones  of  an  enor- 
inous  bulk,  which  crushed  in  pieces  whatever 
came  in  their  way;  and  by  the  destruction  they 
produced,  resembled  in  some  degree  those  ter¬ 
rible  fire  arms  since  invented  by  mankind  for 
tlieir  mutual  ruin.  Others  let  fall  such  pon¬ 
derous  weights  on  the  Homan  gallies,  as  in¬ 
stantly  sunk  them.  Another  engines,  more  ex¬ 
traordinary  still,  were  so  contrived,  as  with  an 
iron  arm  of  amazing  strength,  to  seize  a  vessel 
by  the  prow,  to  lift  her  up  to  a  considerable 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


155 


height,  and  then  to  let  her  fall  with  her  whole 
weight,  so  as  to  sink  or  break  her  to  pieces. 

In  this  manner  did  Archimedes  bailie  for  the 
space  of  eight  months  all  the  attacks  of  the 
Homans.  Of  such  great  use  on  some  occa¬ 
sions  is  a  single  man  of  genius  and  science. 

But  the  machines  that  Archimedes  made  use 
of  against  the  Homans  at  the  siege  of  Syracuse, 
were  in  his  eye  mere  trifles,  in  comparison  of 
his  scientific  discoveries.  He  declared,  lhal  if 
he  had  a  fixed  point  out  of  this  earth,  he  could 
move  it  like  any  other  large  body.  Bv  means 
of  Hydrostatics,  he  discovered  the  theft  of  a 
goldsmith,  who  had  mixed  some  other  metal 
with  the  gold  he  ought  to  have  used  in  forming 
a  crown,  which  he  had  undertaken  to  make  for 
king  Hie.ro.  The  burning-glass  which  he  in¬ 
vented  to  set  on  lire  the  fleet  of  Marcellus,  was 
for  a  long  time  considered  as  chimerical;  but 
after  seeing  that  of  a  celebrated  modern  phi¬ 
losopher,  the  other  can  no  longer  be  denied. 

Syracuse  was  at  last  taken  after  a  siege  of 
three  years,  and  in  the  year  before  Christ  212, 
Marcellus,  the  Roman  consul,  was  much  de¬ 
lighted  with  the  hopes  of  finding  in  this  city, 
the  man  whose  wonderful  genius  had  so  long 
baffled  the  bravest  efforts  of  the  Roman  arms, 
and  therefore  ordered  diligent  search  to  he 
made  every  where  for  Archimedes.  A  private 
soldier  finding  him  at  last,  deeply  intent  upon 
the  solution  of  some  geometrical  problem,  com¬ 
manded  him  to  go  along  with  him  to  Marcel¬ 
lus.  Archimedes  very  quietly  begged  of  the 
soldier  to  wait  a  few  moments  till  he  should 


156 


BLOWERS  OB 


finish  his  problem.  But  the  soldier,  mistaking 
his  request  for  an  absolute  refusal  to  obey  him, 
stabbed  him  with  his  sword  on  the  spot. 

Marcell  us  was  extremelv  concerned  at  the 

«/ 

death  of  Archimedes,  and  by  the  honors  paid 
to  his  memory,  plainly  evinced  the  high  opin¬ 
ion  he  entertained  of  his  merit,  giving  him  a 
very  pompous  funeral,  and  causing  a  monument 
to  be  erected  to  his  memory,  so  contrived  as  to 
exhibit  an  emblem  of  that  most  perfect  of  sci¬ 
ences,  the  mathematics.  He  even  extended  his 
favor  to  the  relations  of  Archimedes,  on  whom 
he  bestowed  distinguishing  and  advantageous 
privileges. 

Jk  O 

Cicero  tells  us,  that  more  than  140.  years 
after  this  event,  when  the  memory  of  Archi¬ 
medes  was  almost  lost  among  his  own  country¬ 
men,  he  himself  had  the  curiosity  to  make  in¬ 
quiry  about  his  tomb,  which,  after  a  painful 
search,  he  had  the  pleasure  at  last  to  find;  dis¬ 
covering  it  by  a  pillar,  whereon  was  delineated 
the  figure  of  a  sphere  and  cylinder,  with  an  in¬ 
scription  on  the  foot  of  it,  pointing  out  the 
proportion  that  a  sphere  hears  to  a  cylinder  of 
the  same  base  and  altitude,  which  is,  as  that 
of  2  to  3;  a  proposition  which  was  discovered 
and  demonstrated  by  Archimedes. 

CHAP.  LXXVI.  f 

Of  JEncas, 

iENEAS  was  a  Trojan  prince,  son  of  An 
ebises  and  Venus.  When  the  Greeks  besieged 


ANCIENT  H1ST0RT. 


t&r 

Troy,  lie  valiantly  opposed  them.  On  their  tak¬ 
ing  the  jcity,  he  placed  his  father  and  his 
household  gods  upon  his  hack,  and  leading  his 
son  Ascanius  by  the  hand,  retreated,  with  what 
Trojan  troops  he  could  collect  to  Alexandria. 
In  the  destruction  of  Troy,  he  lost  his  wife 
Creusa,  daughter  of  Priam,  and  never  knew 
what  fate  befel  her.  He  afterwards  sailed  to 
Epirus,  and  after  many  tempests  and  storms 
at  sea,  landed  at  Carthage,  where  queen  Dido 
became  passionately  in  love  with  him;  but  not¬ 
withstanding  all  her  entreaties,  AEneas  left 
Carthage,  and  went  into  Sicily.  Here  his  fa¬ 
ther  Anchises  died,  to  whose  memory  he  erect¬ 
ed  a  magnificent  monument.  At  length,  after 
having  long  been  the  sport  of  the  winds,  he  ar¬ 
rived  in  Italy,  and  married  Lavinia,  daughter 
of  king  Latinus,  and  succeeded  him  in  the  go¬ 
vernment.  He,  with  his  son  Ascanius,  founded 
there  a  new  kingdom,  and  from  him  the  Ro¬ 
mans  date  their  origin.  For  Romulus  was 
descended  from  the  kings  of  Alba  Longa,  a  city 
built  by  Ascanius. 

$ 

CHAP.  L XXVII. 

Of  Romulus . 

THE  character  of  Romulus,  the  founder 
of  the  Roman  state,  when  we  view  him  as  the 
leader  of  a  few  lawless  and  wandering  banditti, 
is  an  object  of  extreme  insignificance.  But 
when  we  consider  him  as  the  founder  of  an 
empire,  as  extensive  as  the  world,  and  whose 

O 


FLOWERS  OF 


lbS 

progress  and  decline  have  occasioned  the  two 
greatest  revolutions  that  ever  happened  in  Eu¬ 
rope,  we  cannot  help  being  interested  in  his 
conduct. 

His  disposition  was  extremely  martial,  and 
the  political  state  of  Italy,  divided  into  a  num¬ 
ber  of  small  hut  independent  districts,  afforded 
a  noble  field  for  the  display  of  military  talents. 

Romulus  was  continually  embroiled  with 
one  or  other  of  his  neighbors,  and  war  was  the 
only  employment  by  which  he  and  his  compa¬ 
nions  expected  not  only  to  aggrandize  them¬ 
selves,  but  even  to  subsist. 

In  the  conduct  of  his  wars  with  the  neigh¬ 
boring  people,  we  may  observe  the  same  max¬ 
ims  by  which  the  Romans  afterwards  became 
masters  of  the  world.  Instead  of  destroying 
the  nations  he  had  subjected,  he  united  them 
to  the  Roman  slate,  whereby  Home  acquired  a 
new  accession  of  strength  from  every  war  she 
undertook,  and  became  powerful  and  populous, 
from  that  very  circumstance,  which  ruins  and 
depopulates  other  kingdoms. 

If  the  enemies  with  which  he  contended  had 
by  means  of  the  arms  or  arts  they  employed 
any  considerable  advantage,  Romulus  immedi¬ 
ately  adopted  the  practice,  or  the  use  of  that 
weapon,  and  improved  the  military  system  of 
the  Romans,  by  the  united  experience  of  all 
their  enemies.  We  have  an  example  of  both 
these  maxims,  by  means  of  which  the  Roman 
state  arrived  at  such  a  pitch  of  grandeur,  in 
the  war  with  the  Sabines.  Romulus  having 
conquered  that  nation,  not  only  united  them  tc 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


159 


the  Romans,  bat  finding  their  buckler  prefera¬ 
ble  to  the  Roman,  instantly  threw  aside  the 
latter,  and  made  use  of  the  Sabine  buckler  in 
fighting  against  other  states. 

Romulus,  though  principally  attached  to 
war,  did  not  altogether  neglect  the  civil  policy 
of  his  infant  kingdom.  He  instituted  what  was 
called  the  Senate,  a  court  originally  composed 
of  a  hundred  persons,  distinguished  for  their 
wisdom  and  experience.  He  enacted  laws  for 
the  administration  of  justice,  and  for  bridling 
the  fierce  and  unruly  passions  of  bis  followers; 
and  after  a  long  reign  spent  in  promoting  the 
civil  and  military  interests  of  his  country  was, 
according  to  the  most  probable  conjecture,  pri¬ 
vately  assassinated  by  some  of  the  members  of 
that  senate  which  he  himself  had  instituted,  in 
the  year  before  Christ  717. 

CHAP.  LXXVIir ./ 

Of  the  Successors  of  Romulus , 

THE  successors  of  Romuius  were  all  very 
extraordinary  personages.  Numa,  w  ho  came 
next  to  him,  established  the  religious  ceremo¬ 
nies  of  the  Romans,  and  inspired  them  with 
that  veneration  for  an  oath,  which  was  ever 
after  the  soul  of  their  military  discipline. 

Tullus  Ilostilius,  Ancus  Martins,  Tarqui- 
nius  Prisons,  and  Servius  Tullius,  labored  each 
during  his  reign  for  the  grandeur  of  Rome. 
But  Tarquinius  Superbus,  the  seventh  and  last 
King,  having  obtained  the  crown  by  the  exe- 


160 


BLOWERS  OE 


arable  murder  of  his  father-in-law  Sew i us. 
continued  to  support  it  by  the  most  cruel  and 
infamous  tyranny.  This,  together  with  the  in¬ 
solence  of  his  son  Sextus  Tarquinius,  who,  by 
dishonoring  Lucretia,  a  Roman  lady,  affronted 
the  whole  nation,  occasioned  the  expulsion  of 
the  Tarquin  family,  and  with  it  the  dissolution 
of  the  regal  government,  in  the  year  before 
Christ  50 9. 


CHAP.  LXXIX. 

Of  the  Consular  Government. 

AS  the  Romans,  however,  were  continually 
engaged  in  war,  they  found  it  necessary  to  have 
some  officer  invested  with  supreme  authority, 
who  might  conduct  them  to  the  field,  and  re¬ 
gulate  their  military  enterprises.  In  the  room 
of  the  kings,  therefore,  they  appointed  two 
annual  magistrates,  called  consuls,  who,  with¬ 
out  creating  the  same  jealousy,  succeeded  to 
all  the  power  of  their  sovereigns.  This  revo¬ 
lution  was  extremely  favorable  to  the  Roman 
grandeur.  The  consuls,  who  enjoyed  but  a 
temporary  power,  were  desirous  of  signalizing 
their  reign  by  some  great  action.  Each  vied 
with  those  who  had  gone  before  him,  and  the 
Romans  were  daily  led  out  against  some  new 
enemy. 

When  we  add  to  this  that  the  people,  natu¬ 
rally  warlike,  were  inspired  to  deeds  of  valor 
by  every  consideration  that  could  excite  them, 
that  the  citizens  of  Rome  were  all  soldiers. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


461 


and  fought  for  their  lands,  their  children,  and 
their  liberties,  we  need  not  be  surprised  that 
they  should,  in  the  course  of  some  few  centu¬ 
ries,  extend  their  power  over  all  Italy. 

CHAP.  LXXX. 

Of  Carthage ,  and  the  first  Punic  War . 

CARTHAGE  was  an  ancient  city  on  the 
coast  of  Africa,  founded  by  Dido,  queen  of 
Tyre,  long  before  the  foundation  of  Rome. — - 
The  Carthaginians  by  trade  and  navigation,  had 
not  only  extended  their  dominion  in  Africa^ 
but  had  got  great  footing  in  Spain.  They 
also  gave  law  to  the  islands  of  Corsica  and 
Sardinia,  in  the  Mediterranean  sea,  and  under 
color  of  friendly  assistance  to  the  Romans? 
aimed  at  the  sovereignty  of  Sicily.  This  gave 
rise  to  a  succession  of  hostilities  between  these 
rival  states,  known  in  history  by  the  name  of 
Punic  wars,  in  which  the  Carthaginians,  with 
all  their  wealth  and  power,  were  an  unequal 
match  for  the  Romans.  Carthage  was  a  pow¬ 
erful  republic,  when  Rome  was  an  inconsider¬ 
able  state;  but  she  was  now  become  corrupt 
and  effeminate,  while  Rome  was  in  the  vigor  of 
her  political  constitution.  Carthage  employed 
mercenaries  to  carry  on  her  wars;  Rome,  as 
we  have  already  mentioned,  was  composed  of 
soldiers. 

The  first  war  with  Carthage  lasted  twenty- 
three  years,  and  taught  the  Romans  the  art  of 
fighting  on  the  sea,  with  which  they  had  hith- 

o  2 


162 


FLOWERS  OF 


erto  been  Unacquainted.  A  Carthaginian  ves¬ 
sel  was  wrecked  on  their  coast;  they  used  it 
for  a  model,  in  three  months  fitted  out  a  fleet, 
and  the  consul  Duillus,  who  fought  their  first 
naval  battle,  was  victorious. 

Attilius  Regulus  was  appointed  pro-consul 
in  Africa.  He  defeated  the  Carthaginian  ar¬ 
my,  and  took  five  thousand  prisoners.  He  re¬ 
duced  Clypea,  a  famous  sea-port,  and  other  ci¬ 
ties  of  Africa,  and  no  peace  could  he  obtained 
by  the  Carthaginians  from  Regulus,  hut  on  the 
hardest  conditions.  The  Lacedemonians  sent 
Greek  troops  to  their  assistance,  under  Xan- 
iippus,  a  brave  and  experienced  general. 

Fortune  now  favored  the  Carthaginians. — 
Regulus  was  defeated  and  taken  prisoner,  with 
five  hundred  Romans,  the  companions  of  his 
misfortune. 

The  Romans  also  sustained  great  loss  'JV 
sea;  for  on  their  return  to  Italy,  the  greater 
part  of  their  fleet,  consisting  of  350  sail,  wa& 
destroyed  by  a  strong  tempest,  and  both  their 
consuls  perished.  A  like  misfortune  befcl 
them  the  year  after,  when  they  lost  150  ships. 

The  Romans  were  so  much  discouraged  by 
this  repeated  series  of  unsuccessful  events,  that 
they  declined  farther  nayal  engagements,  and 
decreed  that  sixty  ships  alone  should  be  kept 
to  guard  the  Italian  coasts. 

The  consul  MetelJus,  on  the  other  side,  rais¬ 
ed  the  spirits  of  the  Romans,  by  a  dreadful- 
overthrow  of  the  Carthaginians  in  Sicily,  un¬ 
der  Asdrubal  their  general.  Twenty  thousand 
men  were  killed,  and  twenty-six  elephants  were 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


163 


taken.  Fop  this  action  a  splendid  triumph 
was  decreed  to  Metellus;  and  Asdrubal,  on 
his  return  to  Carthage,  was  condemned  and 
executed. 

CHAP.  LXXXf. 

Of  Ucgulus.  . 

THE  behavior  of  Regulus,  the  Homan  gen¬ 
eral,  may  give  us  an  idea  of  the  spirit  which 
then  animated  that  people.  The  Carthagini¬ 
ans,  wearied  out  with  this  tedious  war,  sent 
ambassadors  to  Rome,  to  make  overtures  of 
peace.  Regulus  had  now  been  _a  prisoner  in 
Carthage  live  years;  and  the  Carthaginians  en¬ 
gaged  him  to  plead  their  cause.  But  they  first 
exacted  a  promise  from  him  to  return  to  Car¬ 
thage,  in  ease  the  embassy  proved  unsuccess¬ 
ful.  It  was  at  the  time  hinted  to  him,  that  his 
life  depended  on  the  success  of  his  negotiation. 

On  his  arrival  at  Rome,  he  acquainted  (he 
senate  with  the  motive  of  his  journey,  and  at 
the  same  time  used  every  argument  to  dis¬ 
suade  the  Romans  from  peace,  or  an  exchange 
of  prisoners,  who,  he  said,  “had  ignominiously 
surrendered  their  arms  to  the  enemy.  And 
that,  as  to  himself,  he  was  far  advanced  in 
years,  and  looked  upon  death,  though  inilicted 
with  the  most  cruel  torture,  as  nothing  in  com¬ 
petition  with  the  service  of  his  country.”  Ho 
at  length  prevailed  on  the  senate  to  comply 
with  his  noble  and  unparalleled  counsel;  and 
though  he  well  knew  the  fatal  consequences  to 


FLOWERS  OF 


himself,  the  illustrious  prisoner  would  not 
break  his  engagement  with  the  enemy,  but  re¬ 
turned  to  Carthage.  And  it  is  horrid  to  relate, 
that  the  Carthaginians  imprisoned  him  in  a 
dungeon,  and  cutting  off  his  eye-lids,  exposed 
him  to  the  sun  when  its  beams  darted  the 
strongest  heat.  They  next  put  him  into  a  bar¬ 
rel  stuck  full  of  nails,  whose  points  pricking 
his  flesh,  allowed  him  not  a  moment’s  ease. 
At  last,  to  complete  their  cruelty,  they  nailed 
this  noble  Roman  to  a  cross,  where  he  expired. 
By  this  one  act  only,  did  the  Carthaginians 
bring  an  eternal  infamy  on  themselves  and  their 
country. 

The  Romans  hearing  of  the  horrid  deed 
were  greatly  enraged,  and  delivered  Hamilcar 
the  Carthaginian  general,  and  other  prisoners, 
to  Marcia  the  wife  of  Regulus,  who  shut  them 
up  in  an  armory  filled  with  pikes,  with  an  in¬ 
tent  to  torture  them,  and  inflict  the  punish¬ 
ment  on  them  hep  husband^Jiad  received.  The 
magistrates,  however,  interfered,  and  they  were 
treated  with  great  moderation,  to  let  the  ene¬ 
my  know,  “that  the  Romans  were  too  gene¬ 
rous  to  exult  over  the  miseries  of  unhappy  men, 
though  merited  by  the  highest  resentment,  and 
a  just  retaliation.’’ 

The  war  between  the  two  republics  was  now 
renewed,,  and  carried  on  both  by  sea  and  land 
with  various  success,  till  at  length  a  peace  was 
concluded  between  them,  in  the  year  before 
Christ  239.  Sicily  was  made  a  Roman  pro¬ 
vince,  and  the  Carthaginians  engaged  to  deli¬ 
ver  up  all  their  prisoners  without  ransom. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


165 


CHAP.  LXXXII. 

Of  Hannibal ,  and  the  second  Punic  War. 

CARTHAGE,  though  corrupted,  was  not 
deficient  in  great  men.  Of  all  the  enemies  the 
Romans  ever  had  to  contend  with,  Hannibal, 
the  Carthaginian,  was  the  most  inflexible  and 
dangerous.  His  father  Hamilcar,  had  imbi¬ 
bed  an  extreme  hatred  against  the  Romans,  and 
having  settled  the  intestine  troubles  of  his 
country,  he  took  an  early  opportunity  to  in¬ 
spire  his  son,  though  but  nine  years  old,  with 
his  own  sentiments.  For  this  purpose  lie  or¬ 
dered  a  solemn  sacrifice  to  be  offered  to  Jupi¬ 
ter,  and  leading  his  son  to  the  altar,  asked  him 
whether  he  was  willing  to  attend  him,  in  his 
expedition  against  the  Romans.  The  coura¬ 
geous  boy  not  only  consented  to  go,  but  con¬ 
jured  his  father,  by  the  gods  present,  to  form 
him  to  victory,  and  teach  him  the  art  of  con¬ 
quering.  That  I  will  joyfully  do,  replied  Ha¬ 
milcar,  and  with  all  the  care  of  a  father  who 
loves  you,  if  you  will  swear  upon  the  altar  to 
be  an  eternal  enemy  to  the  Romans.  Hanni¬ 
bal  readily  complied,  and  the  solemnity  of  the 

ceremonv,  and  the  saeredness  of  the  oath,  made 

•  - 

such  an  impression  upon  his  mind,  as  nothing 
afterwards  could  ever  efface. 

Being  appointed  general  at  twenty-five  years 
of  age,  he  laid  siege  to  Saguntum,  a  city  of 
Spain,  in  alliance  with  the  Romans.  This 
breach  of  peace  brought  on  the  second  Punic 
war,  which  was  carried  on  with  mutual  brave- 


16ff 


FLOWERS  OF 


ry  and  animosity.  And  so  equal  was  the  fate 
of  arms  between  them,  that  both  parties  tri¬ 
umphed  by  turns.  Hannibal  had  greatly  the 
advantage  at  first.  He  over-ran  all  Spain,  and 
being  bent  on  the  ruin  of  the  Roman  state,  he 
determined  to  carry  the  war  into  Italy.  He 
surmounted  all  difficulties.  He  passed  the  Alps 
with  an  army  of  140,000  horse  and  foot,  in  the 
winter  season;  and  with  a  resolution  almost  in¬ 
credible,  he  vanquished  the  Roman  army  under 
the  consuls  Seipio  and  Sempronius.  He  after- 
terwards  engaged  Flaminius,  the  Roman  gene¬ 
ral,  at  the  lake  Thrasymenus.  In  this  battte 
Flaminius  was  slain,  and  his  army  entirely  de¬ 
feated.  Rome  was  in  the  utmost  consternation 
on  this  success  of  the  enemy,  and  Fabius 
Maximus  was  sent  with  four  legions  in  quest 
ef  Hannibal,  but  constantly  avoided  coming  to 
an  engagement  with  him.  This  cautious  con- 
duct  of  Fabius  greatly  distressed  Hannibal, 
who  frequently  offered  him  battle.  The  year 
after,  the  armies  came  to  a  general  engage¬ 
ment  at  Cannse,  a  town  in  Apulia.  The  Ro¬ 
mans,  under  the  consuls  AS mili us  Paulus,  and 
Terrentius  Varro,  were  again  entirely  rou¬ 
ted.  Fifty  thousand  men  were  slain  in  the 
battle,  and  an  hundred  thousand  surrendered 
themselves  prisoners  of  war.  And  so  great  was 
the  slaughter,  that  it  is  said  the  conqueror  sent 
to  Carthage  three  bushels  of  gold  rings,  which 
had  been  taken  from  the  slain. 

Hitherto  victory  declared  on  the  side  of  the 
Carthaginians,  and  Rome  was  in  the  utmost 
distress.  At  this  time  Caius  Seipio,  a  tribune 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


167 


of  the  soldiers,  undertook  the  cause  of  his  coun¬ 
try.  This  young  man  being  informed  that 
some  of  the  best  families  of  Rome,  despairing 
to  save  the  commonwealth,  had  agreed  to  aban¬ 
don  Italy, and  settle  themselves  elsewhere,  went 
directly  to  the  assembly,  and  with  his  sword 
drawn,  swore,  “that  if  they  did  not  lay  aside 
that  inglorious  resolution,  and  take  an  oath  not 
to  abandon  the  republic  in  its  present  distress, 
they  should  all  he  immediately  cut  to  pieces.95 

These  threats,  added  to  the  spirit  and  cour¬ 
age  of  Scipio,  brought  them  all  into  the  engage¬ 
ment,  and  they  mutually  plighted  their  faith  to 
each  other,  to  deliver  their  country,  or  to  die 
in  its  ruins. 

Hannibal  had  neglected  to  improve  his  con¬ 
quest,  by  not  marching  directly  to  Rome.  This 
gave  the  Romans  time  to  recover  their  late  de¬ 
feat.  A  new  army  of  young  men  and  slaves 
was  sent  into  Spain,  and  the  Romans  coming 
to  an  engagement  in  Sardinia,  twelve  thousand 
Carthaginians  were  slain.  Marcellus  also  great¬ 
ly  harrassed  Hannibal’s  troops,  and  repulsed 
them  in  several  rencounters;  hut  he  at  last  fell 
into  an  ambuscade  and  was  slain. 

Scipio  the  younger  was  sent  into  Spain  and 
made  successful  campaigns.  Hannibal  was  de¬ 
feated  by  Hostilius  and  Claudius  Nero.  As- 
drubal,  Hannibal’s  brother,  was  killed  in  battle, 
with  the  consul  Livius,  and  Spain  was  entirely 
subjected  to  the  Romans. 

Scipio  was  now  made  consul,  and  sent  into 
Africa.  The  Numidians  also  sent  a  powerful 
army  under  a  second  Asdrubai  and  Syphax,  to 


168 


FLOWERS  OF 


the  assistance  of  the  Carthaginians.  Seipic 
surprised  the  camp  of  the  enemy  in  the  night, 
and  by  this  artifice  gained  a  complete  victory. 

Syphax  was  soon  after  taken  prisoner  by 
Masinissa,  king  of  Numidia,  and  carried,  to 
Rome.  On  this  success  of  the  Romans  in  Afri¬ 
ca,  Hannibal  was  called  home,  after  he  had 
passed  fifteen  years  in  that  country,  to  the 
great  dread  and  terror  of  the  Romans. 

On  liis  return,  Hannibal  took  the  command 
of  the  African  army  at  Zama,  distant  from  Car¬ 
thage  five  days  journey.  The  Roman  army 
was  also  in  a  neighboring  plain,  and  the  two 
generals  had  an  interview,  but  nothing  was 
agreed  on.  Seipio  charged  the  Carthaginians 
with  perfidy  and  injustice;  upon  which  both 
sides  prepared  for  battle.  The  fate  of  Rome 
and  Carthage  was  now  to  be  decided.  Both 
generals  displayed  the  utmost  bravery  and  ex¬ 
perience  in  arms;  but  Hannibal  was  at  last  van¬ 
quished,  ami  victory  remained  with  Seipio. 
Twenty  thousand  Carthaginians  were  slain  in 
the  field,  and  as  many  taken  prisoners.  Han¬ 
nibal  betook  himself  to  Carthage,  and  declared 
he  was  irrevocably  vanquished,  and  that  no 
choice  was  left,  but  to  make  peace.  This  was 
granted  by  the  conquerors,  but  on  the  most  ri¬ 
gorous  conditions.  Thus  ended  the  second  Pu¬ 
nic  war,  after  it  had  continued  seventeen  years: 
and  the  power  and  grandeur  of  the  Roman  peo¬ 
ple  were  greatly  increased,  by  this  signal  con¬ 
quest  over  their  rival  for  universal  empire. 

A  powerful  alliance  was  soon  formed  against 
the  Romans  by  Autioehus  of  Asia,  surnamed 


ANCIENT  HISTDRY.  169 

the  Great,  and  Hannibal,  the  avowed  enemy  of 
Home.  Antiochus  was  defeated  at  Magnesia, 
by  Cornelius  Scipio,  and  his  brother  Africanus; 
and  peace  was  granted  to  Antiochus,  on  condi¬ 
tion  that  he  should  recede  from  all  the  coun¬ 
tries  on  this  side  mount  Tau'rus  in  Greece* 

CHAP.  LXXXIXI. 

Of  the  Fate  of  Scipio  and  Hannibal . 

THE  fate  of  the  two  generals,  Scipio  and 
Hannibal,  was  soon  after  determined.  Scipio 
was  charged  with  taking  money  of  Antiochus, 
for  the  peace  he  had  lately  made  with  him,  and 
retired  to  Li  tern  urn  in  Campania,  where  he 
died,  exclaiming  in  severe  terms  against  Tris 
country.  He  ordered  words  to  the  following 
purport,  to  be  engraved  on  his  tomb:  “Un¬ 
grateful  country,  thou  shait  not  possess  my 
ashes!” 

His  great  rival  Hannibal,  after  flying  from 
place  to  place,  to  escape  falling  into  the  hands 
of  the  Romans,  at  last  sought  an  asylum  in 
the  court  of  Prusias,  king  of  Bythinia.  Han¬ 
nibal  making  some  stay  there,  that  prince  en¬ 
gaged  him  in  the  war  with  Eumenes,  king  of 
Pergamus.  He  gained  for  Prusias  several  bat¬ 
tles  bj  land  and  sea,  when  Hannibal  imagined, 
that  such  important  services  would  forever  se* 
cure  him  a  faithful  friend  in  that  prince. 

The  Romans,  however,  would  not  suffer  him 
to  rest  any  where.  They  dispatched  Flami- 
mius  to  Prusias,  to  complain  of  his  protecting 

P 


FLOWERS  OF 


/  70 

Hannibal.  The  latter  knew  too  well  the  mo¬ 
tive  of  this  embassy,  and  therefore  determined 
not  to  give  his  enemies  the  opportunity  to  de¬ 
liver  him  up.  He  at  first  attempted  his  secu¬ 
rity  by  flight;  but  perceiving,  that  the  several 
secret  outlets,  which  he  had  contrived  in  his 
palace,  were  all  seized  by  the  soldiers  of  Pru- 
sias,  who,  by  this  treacherous  action,  hoped  to 
ingratiate  himself  with  the  Romans,  he  ordered 
poison,  which,  he  had  long  kept  for  this  me¬ 
lancholy  occasion,  to  be  brought  to  him;  and 
taking  it  in  his  hai:d,  “Let  us,  said  he,  free  the 
Romans  from  a  disquietude,  with  which  they 
have  been  long  tortured,  since  they  have  not  pa¬ 
tience  to  wait  for  the  death  of  a  man,  whom 
old  age  has  already  overtaken.  The  victory, 
which  Flaminius  gains  over  a  naked  betrayed 
man,  will  not  do  him  much  honor.  This  sin¬ 
gle  day  will  be  a  lasting  testimony  of  the  great 
degeneracy  of  the  Romans.  Their  fore-fathers 
sent  notice  to  Pyrrhus,  to  caution  him  to  guard 
against  a  traitor,  who  intended  to  poison  him, 
and  that  at  a  time  when  this  prince  was  enga¬ 
ged  in  an  obstinate  war  against  them,  in  the 
very  heart  of  Italy.  But  their  inglorious  sons 
have  deputed  a  person  of  consular  dignity,  to 
excite  Prusias  impiously  to  murder  one,  who  is 
not  only  his  guest,  but  his  friend.”  Having 
uttered  these  words,  he  swallowed  the  poison, 
and  died  in  the  seventieth  year  of  his  age. 

Thus  fell,  perhaps,  one  of  the  greatest  gen¬ 
erals  the  world  ever  produced;  and  to  whom, 
during  the  seventeen  years  of  the  Punic  war, 
only  two  faults  are  imputed:  first,  his  not 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


171 


marching  immediately  after  the  battle  of  Can- 
me,  with  his  victorious  forces  to  Rome,  in  or¬ 
der  to  besiege  that  city;  and  secondly,  his  suf¬ 
fering  their  courage  to  be  softened  and  enerva¬ 
ted,  during  the  winter  quarters  in  Capua.  But 
this  only  shews,  that  human  nature  is  frail,  and 
that  the  greatest  have  their  errors.  These 
failings,  however,  are  totally  absorbed  in  the 
shining  parts  of  his  character,  fie  had  the 
presence  of  mind,  even  in  the  heat  and  fire  of 
action,  to  take  all  advantages.  And  though 
his  army  consisted  of  so  great  a  variety  of  na¬ 
tions,  who  were  often  in  want  both  of  money  and 
provisions,  yet  so  artful  was  his  management, 
that  his  camp  was  never  once  disturbed  with 
any  insurrection,  cither  against  himself  or  any 
of  his  generals. 

He  must  have  been  very  fruitful  in  expe¬ 
dients,  to  be  able  to  carry  on,  for  so  many 
years,  a  war  in  a  far  distant  country,  in  spite 
of  the  opposition  made  at  home,  by  a  powerful 
faction,  which  refused  him  supplies  of  every 
kind,  and  thwarted  him  on  all  occasions. 

He  was  not  only  the  warrior,  but  the  states¬ 
man.  So  superior  and  universal  was  his  ge¬ 
nius,  that  he  grasped  all  parts  of  government; 
and  so  great  were  his  natural  talents,  that  he 
was  able  to  acquit  himself  with  the  various 
functions  of  it  with  glory. 

He  shone  as  conspicuously  in  the  cabinet, 
as  in  the  field,  being  equally  capable  of  filing 
civil  or  military  employments.  In  a  word, 
there  were  united  in  his  person,  the  warrior, 
the  senator,  and  the  financier. 


i  7% 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  LXXX1V. 

Of  the  third  Punic  War ,  and  the  Destruction 

of  Carthage . 

A  DISAGREEMENT  between  Masinissa 
and  the  Carthaginians,  about  the  limits  of  their 
territories,  furnished  fresh  pretence  of  quarrel. 
The  decision  was  referred  to  the  Romans,  who 
obliged  the  Carthaginians  to  give  up  to  Masi¬ 
nissa,  the  country  in  dispute.  This  gave  rise 
to  the  third  Punic  war,  in  the  year  before 
Christ  148. 

The  Romans  had  now  determined  the  fate  of 
Carthage,  and  it  was  declared  in  the  senate, 
that  “Carthage  must  be  destroyed.”  Censo¬ 
rious  and  Manlius,  then  consuls,  were  sent  to 
Africa  with  lfO  gallies,  80,000  foot,  and  4,000 
horse,  which  terrifying  the  Carthaginians  they 
sent  ambassadors  to  Rome,  to  offer  an  unlimi¬ 
ted  submission.  Answer  was  made,  that  the 
senate  of  Rome  granted  them  their  liberty,  the 
enjoyment  of  their  laws,  all  their  territories, 
and  other  possessions,  provided  that  within 
thirty  days,  they  should  send  as  hostages  to 
Lilybseuni,  300  young  Carthaginians,  of  the 
first  distinction,  and  comply  with  the  orders  of 
the  consuls. 

These  severe  terms  were  submitted  to,  and 
the  hostages  were  ordered  to  depart;  but  the 
cries,  groans,  and  lamentations  of  their  mo¬ 
thers,  at  their  departure,  whom  they  were  to 
see  no  more,  is  much  easier  to  be  conceived 
than  des'cribed. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


173 


No  sooner  had  the  Carthaginian  deputies  ar¬ 
rived  at  the  Homan  camp,  than  they  were  told 
by  Censorious,  that  the  people  of  Carthage 
must  immediately  deliver  up  all  their  arms  to 
him;  to  which  they  were  forced  to  consent,  and 
which  was  no  sooner  commanded  lhap  done. 

Censorious  having  applauded  their  obedience* 
told  them,  that  the  Homan  people  were  deter¬ 
mined  totally  to  demolish  Carthage;  but  that 
the  inhabitants  might  remove  from  it,  and  found 
another  city  in  their  own  territories,  provided 
its  distance  from  the  sea  did  not  exceed  ten 
miles. 

The  most  tremendous  thunder  from  the 
skies,  could  not  have  more  affected  the  Car¬ 
thaginians,  than  did  this  sentence  of  the  con¬ 
sul.  They  knew  neither  where  they  were  nor 
what  they  did  or  said;  but,  tearing  their  clothes, 
rolled  themselves  in  the  dust.  After  some 
time,  recovering  from  the  first  emotions  of  hor¬ 
ror  and  despair,  though  destitute  of  men  and 
arms,  they  shut  their  gates,  and  resolved  to 
make  an  obstinate  resistance. 

The  Homan  consul,  thinking  he  had  nothing 
to  fear  from  them,  made  no  great  haste  to 
march  against  Carthage,  whose  inhabitants  in¬ 
stantly  set  about  making  arms  with  incredible 
expedition.  The  temples,  palaces,  and  open 
squares,  were  all  changed  into  so  many  arse¬ 
nals,  where  men  and  women  wrought  day  and 
night.  And,  because  materials  were  wanting 
to  make  ropes,  the  women  cut  olf  their  hair, 
which  amply  supplied  the  want  of  proper  ma¬ 
terials. 

p  2 


FLOWERS  OF 


174 

The  Rolrians  marched  and  invested  the  city, 
but  were  repulsed  at  eyery  assault;  and  no  ma¬ 
terial  advantage  was  gained  by  them,  during 
the  whole  campaign.  The  siege  was  carried  on 
very  slowly,  and  the.  besieged  recovered  their 
spirits,  having  made  the  boldest  sallies,  burnt 
their  engines,  and  liarrassed  their  foragers. 

The  Homans  being  determined  on  the  de¬ 
struction  of  Carthage,  and  uneasy  at  the  little 
progress  made  by  their  generals,  sent  Seipio. 
thither,  in  the  year  before  Christ  144.  His 
tirst  business  was  to  revive  the  discipline  among 
the  troops,  which  had  been  entirely  neglected. 
He  then  prepared  to  carry  on  the  siege  with 
vigor.  During  the  winter  quarters,  Seipio  en¬ 
deavored  to  defeat  the  enemy’s  troops  without 
the  city,  and  in  one  engagement  slew  70,000 
of  them. 

Early  the  next  spring,  Seipio  having  attack¬ 
ed,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  the  harbor  called 
Cothon,  and  the  citadel,  marched  towards  the 
forum,  where  was  the  most  horrid  spectacle  of 
slaughtered  people;  some  cut  to  pieces  by  the 
murdering  weapons,  others  half  killed  by  the 
fall  of  hoi  *ses,  others  torn  limb  from  limb,  or 
hall*  buried  in  the  earth,  or  trampled  on,  lay 
mingled  in  heaps,  in  the  most  shocking  manner. 

The  Carthaginians,  wearied  out  with  these 
ill  successes,  besought  the  Romans  to  spare  the 
lives  of  all  those  who  should  be  willing  to  leave 
the  citadel.  This  was  granted  to  all  except 
deserters;  and  in  eonsequenee  thereof,  there 
came  out  50,000  men  and  women,  who  were 
sent  into  the  fields  under  a  strong  guard. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


17i> 

Carthage  did  not  fall  without  a  remarkable 
instance  of  female  heroism;  for  Asdrubal,  the 
Carthaginian  general,  being  sore  pressed  by  the 
Romans,  fortified  himself,  with  his  wife  and 
children,  and  nine  hundred  deserters  from  the 
Roman  army,  in  the. temple  of  JEsculapius;  but 
seeing  small  hopes  of  success,  he  came  pri¬ 
vately  to  Scipio,  and  threw  himself  at  his  feet. 
The  Roman  general  immediately  shewed  As- 
drubal  to  the  deserters,  who,  transported  with 
rage  and  fury  at  the  sight,  vented  millions  of 
imprecations  against  him,  and  set  fire  to  the 
temple.  As  the  flames  were  spreading,  As- 
d rubai's  wife  dressed  herself  as  splendid  as  pos¬ 
sible,  and  placing  herself  with  her  two  children, 
in  sight  of  Scipio,  spoke  as  follows,  with  a  loud 
voice:  “I  call  not  down  curses  upon  thy  head, 
O  Roman,  for  thou  only  takest  the  privilege 
allowed  thee  by  the  laws  of  war.  But  may  the 
gods  of  Carthage,  and  thou  in  concert  with 
them,  punish  according  to  his  deserts,  the  false 
wretch  who  has  betrayed  his  country,  his  gods, 
his  wife,  and  his  children.”  Then  addressing 
herself  to  Asdrubal,  she  exclaimed,  “Perfidious 
wretch;  thou  basest  of  creatures!  this  fire  will 
presently  consume  both  me  and  my  children. 
But  as  for  thee,  go,  adorn  the  gay  triumph  of 
thy  conqueror!  and  suffer,  in  the  sight  of  all 
Rome,  the  tortures  thou  so  justly  deservest.” 
She  had  no  sooner  spoken  these  words,  but  she 
cut  the  throats  of  her  children,  and  threw  them 
into  the  flames;  she  afterwards  rushed  into  the 
fire  herself  and  was  followed  by  all  the  de¬ 
serters. 


176 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  LXXXV. 

Of  the  success  of  the  Homan  arms ,  and  of  Mi- 

thridates . 

AFTER  the  conquest  of  Carthage,  Rome 
had  inconsiderable  wars,  but  great  victories. 
In  these  conquests  the  Romans  still  allowed 
the  ancient  inhabitants  to  possess  their  territo¬ 
ry.  They  did  not  even  change  the  form  of  go¬ 
vernment.  The  conquered  nations  became  the 
allies  of  the  Roman  people;  which  denomina¬ 
tion,  however,  under  a  specious  name,  conceal¬ 
ed  a  condition  very  servile,  and  inferred,  that 
they  should  submit  to  whatever  was  required 
of  them. 

When  we  reflect  on  these  easy  conquests,  we 
have  reason  to  be  astonished  at  the  resistance 
which  the  Romans  met  with  from  Mithridatcs 
king  of  Pontus,  for  the  space  of  twenty-six 
years.  Rut  this  monarch  had  great  resources. 
His  kingdom  bordering  on  the  inaccessible 
mountains  of  Caucasus,  abounded  with  a  race 
of  men,  whose  minds  were  not  enervated  with 
pleasure,  and  whose  bodies  were  firm  and  vi¬ 
gorous;  and  he  gave  the  Romans  more  trouble 
than  even  Hannibal. 

The  different  states  of  Greece  and  Asia,  who 
now  began  to  feel  the  weight  of  their  yoke,  but 
had  not  spirit  to  shake  it  off.  were  transported 
at  finding  a  prince,  who  dared  to  shew  himself 
an  enemy  to  the  Romans,  and  cheerfully  sub¬ 
mitted  to  his  protection. 

Mithridatcs,  however,  was  at  last  compelled 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


17  7 


to  yield  to  the  superior  fortune  of  the  Romans. 
Vanquished  successively  by  Sylla  and  Lucul- 
1  us,  he  was  at  length  subdued  by  Pompey,  and 
stripped  of  his  dominions  and  of  his  life. 

In  Africa,  the  Roman  arms  met  with  equal 
success.  Marius,  by  conquering  Jugurtha, 
made  all  secure  in  that  quarter.  Even  the  bar¬ 
barous  nations  beyond  the  Alps,  began  to  feel 
the  weight  of  the  Roman  arms.  Qatlia  Nar~ 
bonensis  bad  been  reduced  into  a  province.  The 
Cimbri,  Teutones  and  other  northern  nations  of 
Europe,  broke  into  this  part  of  the  empire. 
The  same  Marius,  whose  name  was  so  terrible 
in  Africa,  then  made  the  north  of  Europe  to 
tremble.  The  barbarians  retired  to  their  wilds 
and  deserts;  less  formidable  than  the  Roman 
legions. 

Rut  while  Rome  conquered  the  world,  there 
existed  an  internal  war  within  her  walls.  This 
war  had  subsisted  from  the  first  periods  of  the 
government.  Rome,  after  the  expulsion  of  her 
kings,  enjoyed  but  a  partial  liberty.  The  de¬ 
scendants  of  the  senators,  who  were  distinguish¬ 
ed  by  the  name  of  patricians,  were  invested 
with  so  many  odious  privileges,  that  the  peo¬ 
ple  felt  their  dependence,  and  became  determi¬ 
ned  to  shake  it  off.  A  thousand  disputes  on 
this  subject  arose  between  them  and  the  patri¬ 
cians,  which  always  terminated  in  favor  of  li¬ 
berty. 

These  disputes,  while  the  Romans  preserv¬ 
ed  their  virtue,  were  not  attended  with  any  dan¬ 
gerous  consequences.  The  patricians  who 
loved  their  country,  cheerfully  parted  with 


178 


FLOWERS  OF 


some  of  their  privileges,  to  satisfy  the  people. 
And  the  people,  on  the  other  hand,  though  they 
obtained  laws,  by  which  they  might  be  admit¬ 
ted  to  enjoy  the  first  offices  of  the  state,  and 
though  they  had  the  power  of  nomination,  al¬ 
ways  named  patricians. 

But  when  the  Romans,  by  the  conquest  of 
foreign  nations,  became  acquainted  with  all 
their  luxuries  and  refinements;  when  they  be¬ 
came  tainted  with  the  effeminacy  and  corrup¬ 
tion  of  the  eastern  courts,  and  sported  with 
every  thing  just  and  honorable,  in  order  to  ob¬ 
tain  them,  the  state,  torn  by  the  factions  be¬ 
tween  its  members,  and  without  virtue,  on 
either  side,  to  keep  it  together,  became  a  proy 
to  its  own  children. 

CHAP.  LXXXVI. 

Of  Catiline’s  Conspiracy . 

ABOUT  sixty  one  years  befofe  Christ  one 
of  the  most  dangerous  conspiracies  broke  out 
that  had  ever  threatened  Rome.  At  the  head 
of  this  conspiracy  was  Lucius  Sergius  Catiline, 
who  was  descended  from  a  very  illustrious  pa¬ 
trician  family  of  great  antiquity.  He  had  been 
brought  up  amidst  the  tumults  and  disorders  of 
a  civil  war,  and  had  been  the  instrument  of  the 
cruelties  of  Sylla,  to  whom  he  was  devoted. 
Catiline  had  been  accused  of  dishonoring  a  ves¬ 
tal  virgin,  and  was  even  suspected  of  murder¬ 
ing  his  son,  that  he  might  not  stand  in  the  way 
of  his  sensual  gratifications.  Destitute  of  either 


ANCIENT  BISTORT. 


179 


morals  or  probity,  he  discovered  not  the  least 
veneration  for  the  gods;  and  being  ever  dis¬ 
gusted  with  the  present,  was  always  unhappy 
with  respect  to  the  future. 

Though  master  of  few  abilities,  he  was  bold, 
rash,  and  intrepid,  and  had  not  even  prudence 
enough  properly  to  conceal  his  own  infernal  de¬ 
signs,  where  it  was  necessary  he  should,  in  or¬ 
der  to  prevent  their  miscarriage. 

As  extravagance  is  the  first  cause  of  the  vio¬ 
lation  of  all  laws,  so  Catiline,  having  contrac¬ 
ted  vast  debts,  and  being  unable  to  pay  them, 
grew  desperate,  and  aimed  at  nothing  less  than 
tjie  highest  and  most  lucrative  employments. 
For  this  purpose  he  associated  with  those  young 
Romans,  whose  excesses  in  the  freedom  of  wine, 
women  and  gaming,  had  ruined  their  fortunes, 
and  rendered  them  the  contempt  of  every  dis¬ 
cerning  person  in  the  city. 

These  abandoned  wretches  formed  a  horrid 
conspiracy  to  murder  the  consuls,  and  to  put  to 
death  the  greatest  part  of  the  senators.  Even 
the  day  was  fixed  which  was  to  have  given 
birth  to  the  most  infamous  attempt  that  had 
ever  happened  in  the  commonwealth  since  the 
foundation  of  Rome.  At  the  signal  given  by 
Catiline,  they  were  to  rush  on  the  consuls  and 
murder  them;  but  Catiline  being  too  hasty  in 
the  signal,  it  was  not  obeyed;  and  thus  the 
massacre,  was  put  off  till  another  time. 

Several  women  of  the  greatest  families  in 
Rome,  who  were  no  less  remarkable  for  their 
libertinism  than  their  beauty,  engaged  in  this 
plot  out  of  compliance  to  their  lovers.  Among 


180 


FLOWERS  OF 


these  was  the  famous  Sempronia,  who  was  as 
bold  as  she  was  beautiful.  She  was  a  perfect 
mistress  both  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues, 
and  could  sing  and  dance  with  more  advantage 
than  became  a  virtuous  woman;  nor  was  she 
wanting  in  any  of  those  charms  which  are  ca¬ 
pable  of  inspiring  a  passion. 

This  conspiracy  was  daily  strengthened  by 
all  the  young  people  of  Rome,  who,  having  been 
rocked  in  the  cradle  of  luxury,  and  enervated 
by  a  continual  succession  of  pleasures;  such  as 
had  ruined  themselves  by  excesses,  and  were  no 
longer  able  to  support  their  extravagancies;  the 
ambitious,  who  aspired  to  the  highest  posts  of 
the  stale;  and  others,  who  had  revenge,  which 
they  wanted  to  gratify  on  some  superior;  all 
these  actuated  by  different  passions,  embarked 
in  the  cause  of  Catiline,  who  made  them  the 
largest  promises,  and  at  the  same  time  exhor¬ 
ted  them  to  employ  their  interest  to  procure  his 
being  elected  consul.  No  time  could  better  suit 
the  conspirators,  as  Pompey  was  then  engaged 
in  a  war  in  the  east,  and  Italy  had  no  army  to 
protect  it. 

Cicero,  however,  who  was  then  consul,  found 
means  to  bribe  Fulvia,  a  lady  of  an  illustrious 
family,  which  she  had  dishonored  by  her  cri¬ 
minal  amours  with  one  of  the  chief  of  the  con¬ 
spirators.  From  this  woman,  Cicero,  got  such 
information,  as  enabled  hhn  to  counteract  all 
Catiline’s  projects. 

Soon  after,  Cicero  accused  Catiline,  while 
he  was  present  in  the  senate,  of  his  impious 
design;  but  he  endeavored  to  clear  himself  of 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


181 


the  charge.  Finding  he  could  nol  bring  the 
senators  to  liis  way  of  thinking,  and  being  cal¬ 
led  by  them  an  enemy  and  a  parricide,  he  cried 
out  in  a  furious  tone  of  voice,  “Since  snares 
are  every  where  laid  for  me,  and  those  to  whom 
I  am  odious,  exasperate  me  beyond  measure,  I 
will  not  perish  singly,  but  involve  my  enemies 
in  my  ruin.” 

Catiline  having  spoken  these  words,  flew  out 
of  the  senate  house,  and  sending  for  the  chief 
conspirators,  toid  them  what  had  passed.  Then 
exhorting  them  to  murder  the  consul,  he  left 
Rome  that  night,  accompanied  by  three  hun¬ 
dred  of  his  associates,  and  went  and  joined 
Manlius.  He  caused  lictors,  with  fasces  and 
axes,  to  walk  before  him,  as  if  he  had  really 
been  a  magistrate.  Upon  the  news  of  this  in¬ 
surrection,  the  senate  ordered  Antonius,  the 
consul,  to  march  the  legions  against  the  rebels, 
and  Cicero  to  look  after  the  peace  of  the  city. 

Soon  after,  Lentulus,  Cethegus,  Gabinius, 
and  two  more,  who  were  principals  of  the  con¬ 
spiracy,  were  arrested,  convicted,  and  conveyed 
to  different  prisons.  The  contest  in  the  senate 
was  long  and  warm,  respecting  the  nature  of 
the  punishment  that  should  be  inflicted  upon 
them.  It  was,  however,  at  last  resolved,  that 
they  should  be  put  to  death;  and  Cicero,  upon  the 
bare  sentence  of  the  senate,  and  without  submit¬ 
ting  the  matter  to  the  people,  as  was  usual,  or¬ 
dered  them  to  be  executed  in  the  different  pri¬ 
sons  in  which  they  were  confined.  These  exe¬ 
cutions  at  once  crushed  the  plot,  and  overturned 
all  the  designs  of  the  conspirators,  who  had 'that 

Q 


182 


FLOWERS  OF 


night  resolved  to  rescue  them  from  confinement, 
that  they  might  immediately  join  Catiline. 

News  being  brought  to  Catiline’s  camp  of 
the  late  execution,  great  numbers  of  his  sol¬ 
diers  abandoned  him  in  the  night;  hut  this  did 
not  disconcert  or  dishearten  Catiline;  for  he 
was  determined  either  to  ruin  the  common¬ 
wealth,  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  He  thereup¬ 
on  raised  new  forces,  filled  the  cohorts  with 
them,  and  soon  completed  the  legions  which 
were  all  inflamed  with  the  same  passion  for 
Mood  and  slaughter,  and  the  destruction  of- 
their  native  country.  By  the  good  manage¬ 
ment  of  the  consul,  Catiline  at  last  found  him¬ 
self  surrounded  by  the  enemy.  He,  therefore, 
resolved  to  hazard  a  battle,  though  he  was  con¬ 
siderably  inferior  in  number. 

Petreius,  who  had  served  thirty  years  in  the 
field,  and  from  a  private  soldier  had  been  made 
a  general,  commanded  for  the  republic,  in  the 
room  of  the  consul,  wh°  was  suddenly  taken  ill. 
He  engaged  Catiline  with  tlie  greatest  bravery, 
and  the  battle  was  sustained  on  both  sides  with 
the  utmost  intrepidity.  Petreius  was  at  last 
victorious,  and  the  rebels  were  all  put  to  the 
sword. 

But  Catiline, w  ho  could  not  bear  the  thoughts 
of  surviving  the  ruin  of  his  party,  rushed  into 
that  part  of  the  battle  where  death  was  making 
the  greatest  havoc,  and  there  fell  a  victim  to 
his  own  folly  and  iniquity.  He  was  afterwards 
found  among  the  dead  and  mangled  bodies  of 
(he  rebels,  which  lay  in  heaps.  On  his  pale 
and  lifeless  face  wus  still  pictured  the  haughty 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


183 


ferocity  of  his  soul,  which  even  death  could 
not  extinguish. 

CHAP.  LXXXVII. 

Of  Julius  Caesar,  and  the  First  Grand  Trium¬ 
virate. 

THE  greater  part  of  Jhe  world  was  now 
subdued,  and  the  Roman  empire  was  arrived 
to  such  grandeur,  that  it  could  scarce  extend 
itself  farther.  No  outward  force  was  sufficient 
to  subdue  the  power  of  the  Romans.  But  the 
state  at  length  fell  by  its  own  weight,  and  the 
ambition  of  the  leading  men. 

Julius  Caesar,  at  this  time,  began  to  make 
a  considerable  figure  in  Rome.  He  had  before 
enjoyed  many  public  offices,  and  was  now  prse~ 
tor  and  governor  of  Spain,  where  he  greatly 
extended  the  frontiers  of  the  Roman  dominion. 
He  also  reduced  Lusitania  into  a  Roman  pro- 
vince,  and,  on  his  return  home,  was  received 
with  the  general  acclamations  of  the  people. 
But  he  declined  a  triumph,  and  was  elected 
consul. 

Csesar  now  began  to  lay  the  foundation  of 
his  future  grandeur.  Pompey  and  Crass  us 
were  competitors  for  the  government.  Ctcsal* 
undertook  to  reconcile  these  professed  enemies, 
and  to  unite  them  to  himself.  He  succeeded 
in  his  design;  and  these  three  men  agreed, 
“that  nothing  should  he  transacted  in  the  re¬ 
public,  without  their  joint  approbation.” 

In  this  manner  was  formed  the  first  grand 


184 


FLOWERS  OF 


triumvirate,  which  totally  subverted  both  the 
consular  and  popular  state,  the  whole  power 
being  now  vested  in  the  hands  of  the  three 
greatest  men  in  Rome,  as  tof  valor,  authority 
and  riches.  Thus  fell  the  liberty  of  Rome, 
owing  to  venality  and  corruption,  after  having 
made  such  an  illustrious  figure  for  many  ages, 
in  the  year  before  Christ  58.  It  is  no  w  onder, 
that  it  was  soon  after  plunged  into  the  greatest 
miseries,  as  it  was  impossible  the  triumvirs 
should  long  agree  together. 

Caesar  was  no  sooner  settled  in  the  consul  ¬ 
ship,  hut  he  confirmed  all  Pompey’s  acts,  pur¬ 
suant  to  the  agreement  made  between  them. 
And,  in  order  to  strengthen  his  power  by  alli¬ 
ance  with  the  first  families,  he  married  Cal- 
f  phurnia,  the  daughter  of  Piso,  and  gave  his 
daughter  Julia  in  marriage  to  Pompey.  He 
next  endeavored  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the 
commons,  and  preferred  a  law  for  dividing  the 
lands  in  Campania  among  the  poorer  citizens, 
who  had  three  children  or  more.  By  these 
arts,  and  a  boundless  generosity,  he  gained  the 
favor  of  all  ranks  and  degrees  of  men.  The 
government  of  Syria  was  given  to  Crassus; 
i hat  of  Spain  to  Pompey;  and  that  of  Gallia 
Cisalpina  was  allotted  (o  Cresar.  In  this  man¬ 
ner  these  three  men  divided  (he  world  among 
them.  Cato  inveighed  against  this  distribution, 
but  Caesar  caused  him  to  be  put  under  arrest. 
Cicero  also  met  w  ith  the  like  ill  treatment,  and 
was^  sent  to  his  government  in  Cilicia;  and  in 
order  to  ruin  bis  interest,  Caesar  associated 
himself  with  Clodjus,  the  professed  enemy  of 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


185 

Cicero,  although  he  had  been  lately  engaged 
in  a  criminal  correspondence  with  Pompeia^ 
Caesar’s  wife. 

The  conquest  of  Gaul  opened  a  large  field 
for  action.  Caesar  set  out  for  that  country 
with  four  legions  of  Homan  soldiers,  and  Pom- 
pey  afterwards  sent  him  another.  His  suc¬ 
cess  was  equal  to  his  great  courage  and  valor; 
for  in  the  space  of  ten  years,  he  triumphed 
over  the  Helvetii,  and  confined  them  to  their 
mountains.  He  defeated  Ariovistus,  king  of 
the  Suevi;  he  subdued  the  Belgse,and  conquered 
all  Gaul.  The  Romans  also,  under  his  con¬ 
duct,  crossed  the  sea,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
set  up  their  eagles  in  Britain.  It  is  related 
by  Plutarch,  and  other  historians,  that,  in  the 
progress  of  his  army,  he  took  either  by  force, 
or  made  submit  by  the  terror  of  his  arms,eight 
hundred  cities;  that  he  subdued  three  hundred^ 
different  nations,  and  that  he  defeated  in  differ¬ 
ent  battles  three  millions  of  men;  of  which 
about  a  million  were  slain  in  battle,  and  an 
equal  number  were  made  prisoners.  It  is  cer¬ 
tain  the  commonwealth  had  never  seen  a  grea¬ 
ter  commander;  but  the  rapidity  of  Csesar’s 
conquests  increased  bis  ambition;  and  the 
riches  he  accumulated  became  the  surest  in¬ 
strument  of  bringing  his  great  designs  to  the 
desired  issue.  '  , 

A.  ' 

Crassus  carried  on  an  unsuccessful  war 
against  the  Par  Lilians  in  Syria,  and  there  lost 
his  life.  One  of  the  Triumvirate  being  thus 
taken  off,  the  jealousy  of  the  other  two  was 
soon  perceived.  Pompey  was  not  able  td  hear 

q  % 


186 


FLOWERS  OF 


an  equal,  nor  Cscsar  a  superior.  A  disagree--* 
ment  between  these  great  men  broke  out,  which 
engaged  their  country  in  a  civil  war.  Corrup¬ 
tion  was  at  this  time  got  to  an  enormous  height 
ill  the  city,  and  faction  and  private  interest 
prevailed  in  ail  public  affairs.  Pompey  ima¬ 
gined  it  would  be  easy  for  him  to  triumph  over 
his  competitor;  but  Csesar,  by  his  mighty  ex¬ 
ploits  in  war,  his  great  policy  and  industry, 
and  by  his  bounty  at  home,  secured  himself  a 
strong  party. 

Cicero,  about  this  time,  returned  to  Rome, 
from  Cilicia.  His  absence  had  prevented  him 
from  siding  with  either  party,  and  he  now  en¬ 
deavored  to  act  as  mediator  between  both;  hut 
no  proposal  of  accommodation  would  be  listen¬ 
ed  to.  Pompey’s  party  endeavored  to  draw 
Cjesar  from*  his  government  of  Gaul,  whilst 
Csesar,  on  the  other  band,  insisted  that  Pom- 
pey  should  resign  bis  government  also,  and  dis¬ 
band  his  armies.  At  last,  in  the  consulship  of 
Claudius  Marcellus,  and  Lucius  Lentulus,  the 
senate  ordered  Cscsar  to  disband  his  army  by 
a  certain  day.  Ctesar  upon  this  passed  the 
Alps  and  halted  at  Ravenna,  from  whence  he 
wrote  to  the  senate.  In  his  letter  he  declared 
that  he  was  ready  to  lay  down  his  command 
jointly  with  Pompey;  but  if  that  genetal  kept 
his  command,  he,  for  his  part,  knew  how  to 
maintain  himself  at  the  head  of  his  legions. 
He  concluded  his  epistle  in  the  following  man¬ 
ner;  “If  I  have  not  justice  immediately  done 
me,  I  will  march  to  Rome.”  These  last  words 
filled  the  assembly  with  horror,  and  Ctesar  was 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


187 


commanded  to  resign  his  army,  on  pain  of  be¬ 
ing  declared  an  enemy  to  his  country.  This 
decree  of  the  senate  was  a  declaration  of  war, 
and  both  parties  had  recourse  to  arms.  Mark 
Antony  the  tribune,  as  also  Curio  and  Cassius, 
quitted  the  city,  and  went  over  to  Caesar. 

Caesar  immediately  retired  secretly  from  Ra¬ 
venna,  and  went  and  joined  his  army,  which 
was  then  near  the  Rubicon.  Be  there  found 
about  five  thousand  foot,  and  three  hundred 
horse,  and  with  these  inconsiderable  forces  he 
began  the  civil  war.  He  halted  for  some  time 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rubicon,  reflecting  on  the 
miseries  and  calamities  inseparable  from  intes¬ 
tine  wars.  “If  I  do  not  cross  this  river,  said 
he  to  himself,  I  am  ruined;  and,  should  I  pass 
it,  what  multitudes  shall  l  ruin!”  After  con¬ 
sidering  a  little,  and  the  animosity  of  his  ene¬ 
mies  presenting  itself  to  his  mind,  he  plunged 
into  the  river,  and  cried  out,  ‘‘Let  us  go  whi¬ 
ther  the  omens  of  the  gods,  and  the  injustice  of 
our  enemies,  call  us.  The  dye  is  east.” 

The  army  having  crossed  the  Rubicon,  Cae¬ 
sar  tore  liis  robe  in  the  presence  of  the  tribunes 
of  the  people,  and  implored  the  protection  of 
his  soldiers,  when  they  all  cried  out  with  loud 
acclamations,  that  they  were  ready  to  die  in 
the  service  of  their  general.  He  then  march¬ 
ed  with  all  possible  expedition  and  took  Ariini- 
num,  which  diffused  terror  over  all  Italy. 

The  senate  were  divided  in  their  resolutions, 
and  rather  waited  the  consequences  of  the  pre¬ 
sent  commotions,  than  provided  for  the  general 
safety.  Pornpey,  iti  great  uneasiness  and  con- 


188 


FLOWERS  OF 


fusion,  eouid  resolve  on  nothing  certain;  ansi 
the  senators  reproached  him  with  being  lulled 
asleep  by  the  deceitful  shew  which  Csesar  made 
of  restoring  peace. 

In  this  unsettled  state,  he  removed  the  seat 
of  war  from  the  neighborhood  of  Rome  to  Apu¬ 
lia.  The  consuls,  with  a  great  part  of  the  se¬ 
nators,  followed  the  fortune  ofPompey. 

CHAP.  LXXXVIII. 

Of  the  Battle  of  Pharsalia,  and  the  Death  of 

Pompey. 

ABOUT  this  time  Csesar  made  himself  mas¬ 
ter  of  Picenum;  and  having  obtained  some  oth¬ 
er  advantages,  before  he  set  out  for  Spain,  in 
order  to  drive  Pompey’s  veterans  from  thence, 
he  marched  first  to  Rome,  to  settle  some  kind 
of  government  there.  Having  taken  3,000 
pounds  weight  of  gold  out  of  the  treasury,  he 
left  Rome,  saying,  that  he  w  as  going  to  attack 
an  army  without  a  general,  and  that  then  he 
would  go  and  combat  a  general  without  an 
army. 

After  several  skirmishes  and  battles  on  both 
sides,  the  armies  of  Pompey  and  Csesar  met 
on  the  plains  of  Pharsalia.  In  these  armies 
was  the  flower  of  the  Roman  legions,  whose 
bravery  was  to  determine  the  fate  of  that  migh¬ 
ty  empire.  The  animosity  and  ambition  of 
their  chiefs,  who  were  fired  with  the  hopes  of 
the  riches  and  glory  which  must  necessarily 
fallow  the  conquest  of  this  day,  made  every 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


189 


one  conclude,  that  a  general  battle  was  unavoid- 
able.  Pompey  having  twice  the  number  of  sol¬ 
diers  that  Caesar  had,  thought  himself  sure  of 
victory;  and  his  soldiers  even  quarrelled  among 
themselves  about  the  share  of  plunder. 

Caesar  employed  his  time  in  a  different  man¬ 
ner.  He  exerted  his  utmost  skill  to  improve 
liis  soldiers,  and  inspire  them  with  vigor  and 
activity.  Hearing  that  Pompey’s  army  was 
drawn  up  in  order  of  battle,  he  told  his  troops, 
with  an  air  of  the  highest  satisfaction,  that  the 
long-wished-for  moment  was  arrived,  in  which  * 
it  was  in  their  power  to  gain  immortal  honor. 
Having  thus  spoken,  he  advanced  with  his 
troops  towards  the  field  of  battle.  Pompey 
was  very  much  disturbed  by  ill  omens,  but  ne¬ 
vertheless  exhorted  his  soldiers  to  behave  cou¬ 
rageously.  As  the  armies  approached,  the  two 
generals  rode  from  rank  to  rank,  to  animate 
their  soldiers.  The  signal  was  then  given  for 
battle,  and  the  contest  on  both  sides  was  long 
and  bloody,  and  seemed  for  some  time  equal. 
Pompey’s  cavalry  charged  with  great  vigor, 
and  obliged  the  enemy  to  give  ground.  Caesar 
instantly  advanced  with  bis  reserved  corps,  who 
attacking  the  face  of  the  enemy  with  their 
pikes,  threw  them  into  the  greatest  disorder. 
Caesar  pursued  the  advantage  with  so  much  vi¬ 
gor,  that  they  were  at  last  overpowered.  The 
auxiliaries  began  the  flight,  though  Pompey’s 
right  w  ing  maintained  their  ground  with  great 
bravery.  At  this  instant,  Caesar  ordering  bis 
men  to  cry  aloud,  “Kill  the  foreigners,  but 
save  the  Homans,”  the  latter  threw  down  their 


190 


FLOWERS  OF 


arms,  and  received  quarter.  In  the  mean  time 
a  dreadful  slaughter  was  made  of  the  foreign¬ 
ers,  who  were  flying  with  tiie  utmost  precipi¬ 
tation. 

After  the  battle,  Pompey  did  not  act  con¬ 
sistent  with  the  character  he  had  hitherto  sus¬ 
tained;  but  mounting  a  horse,  went  to  Larrissa, 
and  from  thence  to  the  sea-shore.  The  rich 
furniture  and  other  things  which  were  found  in 
Pompey’s  camp,  were  a  convincing  proof  how 
much  luxui^  had  prevailed  there.  Fifteen 
thousand  men  fell  in  this  memorable  battle* 
and  twenty-four  thousand  were  taken  prisoners. 

Pompey,  though  lately  a  great  and  powerful 
commander,  was  now  obliged,  with  a  few  friends 
only,  to  retreat  to  a  fisherman’s  bark,  from 
whence  he  got  on  board  another  vessel  and 
made  his  escape.  His  misfortunes  had  now  so 
completely  conquered  him,  that  he  forgot  to 
make  use  of  those  advantages  he  still  haiFat 
sea,  being  master  of  a  powerful  and  victorious 
fleet.  He  fled  to  the  island  of  Lesbos,  where 
he  had  before  sent  Cornelia  his  wife,  and  Sex¬ 
tus,  his  younger  son,  whom  he  took  with  him 
from  Lesbos  to  Cyprus,  and  from  thence  came 
to  Egypt. 

Pompey  had  been  a  great  friend  to  Auletes, 
the  father  of  the  young  Egyptian  king;  and  it 
was  chiefly  through  the  influence  of  this  illus¬ 
trious  Homan  that  he  was  restored  to  his  king¬ 
dom.  He  therefore  expected  to  he  assisted,  and 
received  with  equal  kindness  by  the  son.  Pom¬ 
pey,  on  his  drawing  near  to  land,  sent  messen¬ 
gers  to  Ptolemy  to  request  his  protection  and 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


191 


aid  in  his  present  distress.  The  king  was  then 
qnly  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  therefore  con¬ 
sulted  his  ministers  what  answer  to  return.  At 
hist,  after  various  opinions,  it  was  thought  most 
expedient  to  dispatch  him.  Achillas,  and  Sep¬ 
timus,  a  Homan  commander,  were  sent  to  exe¬ 
cute  this  horrid  deed. 

They  went  to  take  Pompey  on  board  a  small 
boat,  under  pretence  that  great  vessels  could 
not  approach  the  shore  without  much  difficulty. 
The  troops  were  drawn  up  on  the  sea-side,  as 
with  a  design  to  honor  Pompey,  with  Ptolemy 
at  their  head.  Pompey  embraced  Cornelia, 
(alas,  little  did  he  think  for  ihe  last  time!)  and 
entered  the  boat,  where  he  was  shamefully  mur¬ 
dered,  in  the  sight  of  his  wife,  and  the  young 
king.  The  murderers  cut  off  his  head,  and 
threw  his  body  on  the  sand,  where  it  had  no 
other  funeral  than  what  one  of  his  freedmen 
gave  it,  with  the  assistance  of  an  old  Roman, 
who  was  there  by  accident.  Thus  unworthily 
ended  the  life  of  Pompey  the  Great,  in  the  fifty- 
ninth  year  of  his  age. 

Cornelia  had  seen  Pompey  massacred  before 
her  eyes,  and  it  is  easier  to  imagine  the  condi¬ 
tion  of  a  woman  in  the  height  of  grief  from  so 
tragical  a  scene,  than  to  describe  it.  The  Ro¬ 
man  ships  made  olf  to  sea  with  all  imaginable 
speed.  Cornelia  and  Sextus  escaped  first  to 
Tyre,  and  from  thence  into  Africa;  but  most 
of  the  other  ships  were  taken  by  the  Egyptian 
gallies,  and  all  on  hoard  were  cruelly  put  to 
the  sword;  among  whom  was  Lucius  Lentulus 
the  late  consul,  who  obstinately  rejecting  all 


i92 


FLOWERS  OF 


the  proposals  that  had  been  made  by  Csesar, 
was  the  author  of  this  fatal  war. 

CHAP.  LXXXIX. 

Of  Cwsar9s  Expedition  into  Egypt,'  and  hi$ 
Attachment  to  Cleopatra . 

CiESAll  passed  over  into  Egypt,  and  spent 
nine  nionhts  at  Alexandria  with  Cleopatra,  queen 
of  that  country.  This  queen  hearing  that  Csesar 
was  fond  of  women,  laid  a  plot  first  to  attach 
him  to  her  person,  and  then  her  cause;  for  she 
was  a  woman  who  made  nothing  of  prostituting 
her  person  to  any  one,  either  through  passion 
or  interest/'  She  desired  Csesar  to  permit  her 
to  come  in  person,  that  she  might  plead  her 
own  cause  before  him.  This  being  easily 
granted,  she  was  conveyed  privately  into  the 
city  by  her  own  servant,  who  carried  her  on 
his  back,  tied  up  in  her  bedding,  to  Csesar’s 
apartment  in  the  citadel,  where  he  threw  down 
his  burthen,  untied  it,  and  up  started  the  lady 
with  the  best  airs  she  could  put  on.  Csesar 
was  pleased  with  her  stratagem,  and  smitten 
with  her  beauty,  which  had  all  the  effects  she 
wished  for. 

Csesar  having  obtained  a  complete  victory 
over  the  Egyptian  army,  Ptolemy  endeavored 
to  escape  in  a  boat,  which  sunk,  and  he  was 
drowned  in  the  Nile.  Csesar  then  returned  to 
Alexandria,  and  all  Egypt  submitted  to  the  con¬ 
queror. 

Csesar  gave  the  crown  of  Egypt  to  Cleopa 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


193 


tra,  in  conjunction  with  Ptolemy,  her  younger 
brother,  who  was  only  eleven  years  of  age. 
The  passion  which  Csesar  had  conceived  for 
that  princess,  was  probably  the  sole  cause  for 
his  embarking  in  so  dangerous  a  war,  and  his 
affection  for  her  kept  him  much  longer  in  Egypt 
than  his  affairs  required.  lie  passed  whole 
nights  in  feasting  with  her,  and  even  intended 
to  marry  her;  but  after  continuing  some  months 
in  Egypt,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  it  in  order 
to  oppose  Pharnaces,  son  of  the  great  Mitliri- 
dates.  Pharnaces  being  conquered,  and  endea- 
voring  to  break  into  Bosphorus,  was  repulsed 
and  slain  by  Asander,  who  had  revolted  from 
him.  Thus  deservedly  fell  a  man  so  rebel¬ 
lious  to  his  father,  and  ungrateful  to  his 
friends.  After  this  he  set  out  for  Rome,  with 
the  utmost  diligence,  having  settled  his  affairs 
in  these  parts,  as  well  as  time  would  permit. 

CHAP.  XC> 

Of  the  Death  of  Cato , 

ON  Cresar’s  Return  to  Rome,  the  Senate  de¬ 
creed  him  an  unlimited  authority.  He  was 
appointed  consul  for  ten  years,  and  made  Mark 
Antony  his  master  of  horse.  In  the  year  pre¬ 
ceding  his  appointment,  Pompey’s  party  ga¬ 
thered  fresh  strength  in  Africa,  under  Scipio, 
Cato,  and  Juba,  king  of  Numidia.  Csesar  mar¬ 
ched  an  army  into  that  country,  and  entirely 
defeated  the  enemy  at  Thapsus,  a  town  on  the 
sea-coast.  Upon  this  victory,  Zama;  and  other 

R 


194 


FLOWERS  OF 


cities  surrendered  to  Csesar.  Seipio  was  drown¬ 
ed  in  his  passage  to  Spain;  king  Juba  obliged 
a  slave  to  dispatch  him;  and  Cato  retired  to 
Utica,  a  city  in  Africa,  where  he  established  a 
kind  of  senate,  which  consisted  of  300  Romans. 
He  at  first  intended  to  stand  a  siege,  but  find¬ 
ing  the  inhabitants  were  not  to  be  relied  on,  he 
changed  his  resolution,  and  advised  his  friends 
either  to  escape  by  sea,  or  submit  to  the  mercy 
of  Csesar.  He  embraced  them  with  uncommon 
tenderness,  and  discoursed  on  moral  subjects, 
of  which  this  was  the  theme:  ‘‘The  virtuous 
are  the  only  happy  and  free,  and  the  wicked  are 
ever  wretched  and  slaves.” 

His  sons  suspecting  he  had  some  design  on 
himself  at  supper,  took  his  sword  from  him, 
which  he  did  not  then  miss.  He  afterwards 
threw  himself  on  his  bed,  and  read  Plato’s  dia¬ 
logue  on  the  Immortality  of  the  soul;  then  mis¬ 
sing  his  sword,  which  not  being  brought  him 
as  soon  as  he  expected,  he  fell  into  a  violent 
passion.  At  last  his  friends,  bringing  it  to  him, 
implored  him  not  to  lay  violent  hands  on  him¬ 
self,  but  to  continue  among  them,  as  their  only 
genius,  guardian,  and  protector.  On  receiving 
Iiis  sword,  he  felt  the  point  of  it,  and  said,  “I 
am  now  my  own  master.”  He  then  read 
again,  and  afterwards  fell  into  a  sound  sleep. 
At  day-break  he  awoke,  when  he  stabbed  him¬ 
self;  but  not  doing  it  effectually,  he  staggered 
and  threw  down  a  table,  the  noise  of  which 
brought  in  his  slaves,  his  friends,  and  his  sons, 
who  found  him  weltering  in  his  gore.  His 
physician  replaced  his  bowels,  and  sewed  up 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


105 


the  wound;  but  Cato  afterwards  coming  to  him¬ 
self,  tore  open  the  wound;  and  rushed  out  of 
life  with  fury,  rage,  and  indignation,  which  fin¬ 
ished  Csesar’s  war  in  Africa. 

Whether  the  manner  in  which  this  great  re¬ 
publican  put  a  period  to  his  life,  was  justifiable 
or  not,  has  ever  since  been  a  matter  of  much 
dispute.  It  must  be  owned,  that  he  did  not  on 
this  occasion,  act  conformably  to  his  own  sys¬ 
tem  of  philosophy;  and  if  we  try  him  by  the 
laws  of  Christianity,  he  will  appear  still  more 
culpable.  Life  is  but  a  short  summer’s  cam¬ 
paign,  in  which  we  have  many  battles  to  fight, 
many  breaches  to  mount,  many  strong  fostres- 
ses  to  storm.  The  prudent  general;  liQwever 
unfortunate  he  may  have  been  fora  long  time, 
experience  teaches  us,  often  proves  at  last  suc¬ 
cessful,  and  gives  us  a  convincing  proof,  that 
it  is  cowardice  to  despair,  though  in  all  human 
appearance  every  thing  seems  lost.  We  ought, 
however,  to  allow  Cato  some  favorable  circum¬ 
stances.  We  must  consider  the  age  in  which 
he  lived,  and  the  barbarity  of  those  times,  in 

which  suicide  was  not  forbidden  either  bv  re- 

* 

ligion  or  laws.  Shall  Cato  become  the  sport 
and  mockery  of  those  people,  to  whom  he  once 
gave  laws?  Shall  he  live  to  see  his  country, 
once  the  seat  of  sweet  liberty  and  freedom,  be¬ 
come  the  den  of  tyranny  and  oppression?  Shall 
his  eyes  behold  her  laws  subverted,  venality 
and  corruption  carrying  every  thing  before 
them,  and  that  once  fair  and  stately  city  Rome, 
once  the  mistress  of  the  world,  now,  through 
faction  and  party,  precipitating  into  a  pile  of 
ruins?. 


196 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  XCI. 

Of  Caesar’s  Success,  his  Triumphs,  and  his 

Death. 

CiESAR  pursued  his  prosperous  fortune 
with  great  rapidity.  Besides  his  conquests  in 
Alexandria,  and  over  Pompey’s  party  in  Afri¬ 
ca,  he  went  into  Spain  and  marched  in  person 
against  the  two  sons  of  Pompey,  who,  under 
Labienus,  had  raised  a  powerful  army.  The 
armies  came  to  an  engagement  in  the  plains  of 
Munda.  Csesar,  after  great  hazard  of  being 
entirely  routed,  animated  his  soldiers  with  the 
greatest  resolution,  and  gained  a  complete  vie- 

■H- 

tory  over  the  enemy.  Thirty  thousand  were 
killed  on  the  spot,  the  generals  were  dispersed*, 
and  all  Spain  submitted  to  the  conqueror. 

When  Caesar  returned  to  Rome,  he  triumph¬ 
ed  four  times  in  one  month.  He  rewarded  his 
soldiers  with  great  liberality,  and  exhibited 
public  shows  with  great  magnificence,  for  the 
diversion  of  the  people;  and  to  remove  every 
cause  of  jealousy,  he  bestowed  t lie  honors  of 
the  state  on  Pompey’s  friends  equally  with  his 
own  adherents. 

Many  of  the  senators,  however,  w  ho  had  re¬ 
ceived  these  favors  at  the  hand  of  Csesar,  se¬ 
cretly  upbraided  themselves  for  accepting  his 
kindness,  at  the  expense  of  public  liberty. — 
Many  were  also  dissatisfied  with  the  change  of 
government,  and  the  ambitious  conduct  of  C »- 
sar,  who  now  attempted  to  assume  the  regal 
title.  These  sought  to  accomplish  his  ruin, 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


197 


and  in  private  cabals  it  was  agreed,  that  the 
liberty  of  the  commonwealth  could  no  longer 
he  maintained  without  the  death  of  the  dicta¬ 
tor. 

Brutus  and  Cassius  were,  by  Csesar’s  ap¬ 
pointment,  praetors  for  that  year.  These  men 
were  at  the  head  of  that  party.  The  conspira¬ 
tors  carried  on  their  plot  with  all  imaginable 
caution  and  secrecy;  and  the  better  to  justify 
their  designs,  deferred  it  till  the  Ides  of  March, 
on  which  day  Csesar  was  to  be  declared  king* 
A  famous  augur  told  Csesar,  that  great  dan¬ 
gers  threatened  him  on  the  Ides  of  March; 
and  those  writers,  who  would  add  horror  to  the 
description  of  this  day,  tell  us,  “that  the  world 
wore  a  gloomy  and  heavy  presage  of  Csesar’s 
fate;  that  wild  beasts  came  into  the  most  fre 
quen-ed  parts  of  the  city;  that  there  were  ap¬ 
paritions  in  the  streets,  and  illuminations  in  the 
skies;  and  that  inauspicious  sacrifices  damped 
the  hearts  of  all  men,  except  the  assassins, 
who,  with  incredible  serenity  of  mind,  waited 
the  approaching  opportunity  of  sacrificing  the 
usurper.” 

Csesar’s  wife  having  had  frightful  and  omi¬ 
nous  dreams  the  preceding  night,  persuaded 
him  not  to  go  abroad  that  day;  but  llecimus 
Brutus,  one  of  the  conspirators,  calling  on  him 
in  the  morning,  and  laughing  at  those  silly 
omens,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  out 
of  his  house.  As  Csesar  was  going  to  the  se¬ 
nate-house,  he  met  the  augur  who  had  for- 
warned  him  of  the  dangers  of  that  day.  “The 
Ides  of  March  are  come,’5  said  C^sar.— . 


r 


cy 


198 


BLOWERS  OB 


“True,”  replied  the  augur,  “but  they  are  not 
yet  past.” 

Scarce  had  Caesar  taken  his  seat,  but  all  the 
assassins  pressed  upon  him,  and  sued  for  fa¬ 
vors  which  they  knew  would  not  be  granted. 
The  sign  was  given.  Immediately  one,  op- 
pressed  with  the  greatness  of  the  attempt,  made 
an  irresolute  pass  at  him.  Caesar  then  rushed 
upon  Casca,  and  beat  him  to  the  ground.  But 
while  they  were  struggling,  another  of  the  con- 
spirators  came  behind  him,  and  plunged  his 
dagger  into  his  bosom.  At  the  same  time 
Cassius  wounded  him  in  the  face,  and  Brutus 
in  the  thigh.  Till  this  time  he  had  made  a 
very  vigorous  resistance,  but  now  made  no 
more,  and  submitting  to  the  strokes  of  a  person 
who  owed  to  him  his  life,  he  only  uttered  these 
words:  “And  thou  too,  my  son  Brutus!”  Cae- 
Sar  used  to  call  him  by  this  tender  name,  sup¬ 
posing  him  to  be  his  illegitimate  son  by  an  in¬ 
trigue  with  Servilia.  Growing  now  faint  with 
the  loss  of  blood,  he  reeled  to  Vompey’s  sta¬ 
tue,  where  covering  his  face  with  his  robe,  and 
drawing  his  skirts  to  his  knees,  that  he  might 
fall  decently,  he  sunk  down  and  expired,  hav¬ 
ing  received  twenty-three  wounds. 

C£esar  had  long  before  been  advised  by  his 
friends  to  be  more  cautious  of  the  security  of 
his  person,  and  not  to  walk,  as  was  his  common 
practice,  among  the  people,  without  arms  or 
any  one  to  defend  him.  But  to  these  admoni¬ 
tions  he  always  replied,  “He  that  lives  in  fear 
of  death,  every  moment  feels  its  tortures:  I 
will  die  but  once,”  At  last,  thus  fell,  in  the 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


199 


fifty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  the  conqueror  of 
the  Gauls,  of  Pompey,  and  the  senate,  the  mas¬ 
ter  of  the  Roman  republic  and  the  world,  who 
died  without  uttering  the  least  complaint,  or 
shewing  any  marks  of  grief  or  weakness,  in 
the  year  before  Christ  43. 

It  is  not  to  be  omitted  here,  that  among 
other  noble  schemes  and  ordinances,  which 
tended  to  the  grandeur  of  the  city  of  Rome, 
and  the  enlargement  of  the  Roman  empire, 
Csesar  reformed  the  calendar;  and  with  the 
assistance  of  the  most  able  astronomers,  regUr 
lated  the  year  according  to  the  course  of  the 
sun.  Two  months  were  added  to  the  calendar, 
and  the  whole  year  was  divided  into  3 65  days. 
He  also  added  one  day  to  every  fourth  year  in 
the  month  of  February,  and  that  year  was  nam¬ 
ed  Bissextile,  or  Leap-year.  The  reckoning 
of  time,  from  his  regulation,  was  called  the  Ju¬ 
lian  account  of  time;  and  some  ages  after,  the 
old  style,  in  opposition  to  the  new  or  Grego¬ 
rian  style.  This  last  is  now  generally  follow¬ 
ed  in  most  parts  of  Europe,  and  reckons  eleven 
days  forwarder.  With  the  death  of  Ca3saren- 
ed  the  first  triumvirate,  or  government  of  the 
Roman  empire  by  three  persons,  Pompey,  Cse- 
sar,  and  Crassus. 

CHAP.  XCIL 

Of  Antony's  Oration ,  and  its  Effects . 

CiE SAR  was  no  sooner  dead,  but  the  con¬ 
spirators  acquainted  the  senate  with  the  mo- 


FLOWERS  OF 


300 

lives  of  their  undertaking,  and  exhorted  them 
to  join  in  an  action,  which  had  restored  the  li¬ 
berty  of  their  country;  but  most  part  of  the 
assembly  were  terrified  and  filled  with  amaze¬ 
ment.  Many  left  the  senate,  and  retired  to 
their  own  houses  to  wait  the  issue  of  so  bold 
and  tragical  an  action. 

In  this  disposition  of  the  senators,  Brutus 
and  Cassius  went  into  the  city;  and  preceded 
by  an  herald  with  the  symbols  of  liberty,  pub¬ 
licly  proclaimed  they  had  killed  the  tyrant  of 
their  country,  and  exhorted  the  people  to  join 
in  restoring  the  liberty  of  the  commonwealth. 
The  people,  no  less  struck  with  terror  at  this 
deed  than  the  senators,  and  now  greatly  dege¬ 
nerated  from  the  virtue  of  their  ancestors,  did 
not  declare  in  their  favor.  The  conspirators, 
surprised  at  this  indolenc9e  of  the  people,  reti¬ 
red  to  the  capitol;  and  Brutus  is  by  Seneca 
charged  with  imprudence,  that  in  freeing  his 
country  of  a  tyrant,  he  had  it  not  in  Ms  power 
to  abolish  tyranny. 

Antony,  Csesar’s  friend,  was  at  this  time 
consul,  and  the  city  was  divided  into  the  two 
parties;  the  one  took  papt  with  the  conspira¬ 
tors,  the  other  with  Antony  and  Lepidtis.  Bru¬ 
tus  now  saw  with  regret,  that  the  death  of  the 
usurper  of  the  public  liberty  would  create  fresh 
calamities  in  the  commonwealth.  Antony  sum¬ 
moned  the  senate,  who  never  met  on  a  more 
important  occasion;  at  the  same  timo  he  car¬ 
ried  all  Csesar’s  effects  and  papers  to  his  own 
house.  In  this  assembly  of  the  senate,  as  both 
parties  were  afraid  of  each  other,  they  entered 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


201 


into  a  treaty,  or  the  appearance  of  agreement; 
and  with  joint  consent  it  was  decreed,  that  no 
inquiry  should  be  made  into  the  dictator’s 
death;  that  all  his  acts  should  he  confirmed, 
and  his  funeral  performed  at  the  public  ex¬ 
pense.  This  last  article  was  given  in  charge 
to  Antony.  He  pronounced  the  funeral  ora¬ 
tion,  and  exerted  the  whole  power  of  his  rhe¬ 
toric  to  work  on  the  passions  of  the  multitude. 
He  read  Caesar’s  will  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
people,  and  expatiated  largely  on  the  love  he 
bore  them,  and  his  generosity  in  bequeathing 
to  each  citizen  a  sum  of  money.  He  then  dis¬ 
played  the  dictator’s  bloody  robe,  and  his  im¬ 
age  in  wax,  in  which  wer6  represented  the 
there  aim  thirty  wounds  he  had  received  -at  his 
death.  And  when  he  found  the  people  agita¬ 
ted  with  grief  and  anger,  he  swore  by  the  gods 
of  Rome,  the  protectors  of  the  empire,  to  re¬ 
venge  his  death,  and  conjured  them  to  favor 
him,  in  doing  his  duty  to  the  father  of  his 
country,  and  their  kind  benefactor.  Rage  and 
fury  succeeded  to  grief  and  anger;  and  when 
the  fire  was  put  to  the  funeral  pile,  the  people 
seized  the  firebrands  in  order  to  burn  the  houses 
of  the  conspirators,  against  whom  they  now  ex¬ 
pressed  the  most  hitter  i inprecations;  but  be¬ 
ing  without  arms,  they  were  repulsed  by  a  pro¬ 
per  guard  appointed  to  protect  them. 

The  senators  and  conspirators  were  equally 
offended  at  this  artful  speech  of  Antony;  and 
complained  that  the  consul,  contrary  to  the  de¬ 
cree  of  the  senate,  and  his  own  promise,  had 
go  pathetically  enlarged  on  the  praises  of  Cse- 


202 


FLOWERS  OF 


sar,  with  a  view  only  to  excite  the  rage  of  the 
people,  and  promote  their  ruin.  By  this  con¬ 
duct  they  saw  full  well  how  little  Antony  was 
to  he  depended  on.  The  conspirators,  to  avoid 
the  present  heat  of  the  people,  left  the  city, 
and  on  different  pretences  retired  to  their  se¬ 
veral  governments.  Brutus  declared,  “that 
he  would  willingly  spend  the  remainder  of  his 
days  in  banishment,  provided  Caesar’s  crea¬ 
tures  did  not  invade  the  public  liberty.”  An¬ 
tony,  sensible  that  he  had  too  openly  declared 
himself,  and  raised  a  suspicion  of  his  inten¬ 
tions  in  the  senate,  endeavored  by  some  acts 
of  self-denial  to  reconcile  JU.i mself  to  them,  and 
regain  their  ftivor.  To  this  end  he  began  to 
soften  the  harsh  expressions  of  his  funeral  ora¬ 
tion,  and  remonstrated  to  them  how  necessary 
it  was  to  quiet  the  minds  of  the  people,  and  to 
prevent  the  calamities  of  a  civil  war;  but  all 
this  seemingly  candid  declaration  could  not 
clear  him  from  the  suspicion  of  a  design  to  es¬ 
tablish  himself  in  the  sovereignty. 

Caesar,  by  his  will,  had  adopted  Octavius, 
his  sister’s  grandson,  and  appointed  him  his 
heir.  This  young  Roman  was  at  Apollonia, 
in  Greece,  when  he  first  heard  of  his  uncle’s 
murder,  and  the  unsettled  state  of  Italy.  He 
immediately  determined  to  set  out  for  Rome, 
and  support  his  pretensions.  Ilis  arrival  en¬ 
tirely  frustrated  the  intentions  of  Antony.  In 
a  solemn  manner  he  directly  claimed  his  adop¬ 
tion,  and  took  upon  him  the  name  of  Caesar* 
He  put  on  the  appearance  of  civility  to  Anto¬ 
ny,  and  at  the  same  time  upbraided  him  fur 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


203 


liis  double  dealing.  These  disputes  for  some 
time  between  them  were  carried  on  with 
warmth,  and  Antony  accused  Octavius  with  a 
design  to  assassinate  him.  He  also  caused 
four  legions  to  advance  near  Rome;  and  Octa¬ 
vius  raised  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  in 
Campania.  Cicero  engaged  the  senate  to  de¬ 
clare  in  his  favor;  and  indeed  the  senate,  An¬ 
tony,  and  Octavius,  seemed  all  to  play  a  dou¬ 
ble  part,  in  order  to  deceive  each  other;  the 
former,  with  the  hope  that  these  mutual  feuds 
might  end  in  the  destruction  of  the  chief  of 
each  party. 

CHAP.  XCIII. 

•  « 

Of  the  Secotid  Triumvirate. 

DIFFERENCES  being  at  last  accommoda¬ 
ted  between  Octavius  and  Antony,  it  was  agreed 
that  they,  in  conjunction  with  Lepidus,  should 
invest  themselves  with  the  supreme  authority, 
during  five  years,  under  the  name  of  Triumviri. 
It  was  also  agreed  that  Antony  should  have  all 
Gaul,  except  Narbonne,  which  Lepidus  was  to 
have,  with  Spain;  whilst  Octavius  was  to  pos¬ 
sess  Africa,  Sicily,  and  Sardinia,  with  the 
other  islands;  and  that  Italy,  and  the  eastern 
provinces,  should  continue  for  a  time  in  com¬ 
mon.  In  this  manner  did  three  men  again  di¬ 
vide  the  empire  of  the  world,  in  the  year  be¬ 
fore  Christ  41. 

They  further  agreed,  to  their  eternal  infa¬ 
my,  to  destroy  all  their  enemies;  on  which  oc~ 


204 


FLOWERS  OF 


ocasion  Cicero  caused  the  greatest  controversy. 
Antony  was  his  implacable  enemy,  and  would 
come  to  no  firm  accommodation  till  his  de¬ 
struction  was  determined.  Lepidus,  who  was 
little  better  than  a  tool,  consented  to  this.  Oc¬ 
tavius,  on  account  of  his  former  friendship, 
would  have  saved  his  life;  but  at  last  he  igno- 
miniously  consented  to  his  death.  They  pro¬ 
scribed  three  hundred  senators,  and  upwards 
of  two  thousand  knights,  so  that  Rome  was 
now  in  a  most  horrible  situation,  nothing  be¬ 
ing  heard  but  cries  and  lamentations  in  every 
part  of  it,  and  murders  were  every  where  com- 
milted  by  the  soldiers. 

\  '  y 

CHAP.  XCIV. 

Of  Cicero's  Death . 

THE  Triumviri  carried  their  inhumanity  to 
such  lengths,  as  to  give  up  to  one  another  their 
nearest  relations.  Lepidus  sacrificed  his  bro¬ 
ther  Paul  us  to  his  own  colleagues;  Mark  An¬ 
tony  abandoned  to  C^sar  his  uncle  Lucius; 
and  Octavius  gave  up  to  Antony,  Cicero,  to 
whom  he  was  bound  by  the  strictest  obliga¬ 
tions. 

Cicero,  while  on  his  flight,  seeing  ruffians 
coming  towards  him,  ordered  his  litter  to  be  set 
down,  and  quietly  submitted  his  neck  to  Pom- 
peius  Lena,  whom  he  before  had  saved  from 
condemnation.  This  wretch  cut  off  his  hands 
and  his  head,  and  carried  them  to  Antony,  who 
exulted  over  them. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY* 


%95 


Some  authors  tell  us,  that  it  was  his  custom 
to  have  the  heads  of  those,  whom  he  had  pro¬ 
scribed,  brought  upon  his  table,  and  that,  he 
there  used  to  feed  his  eyes  a  long  time  with 
this  cruel  spectacle.  Fulvia,  his  wife,  says 
Dion,  spit  upon  Cicero’s  head,  and  laying  it  on 
her  lap,  pulled  out  the  tongue,  and  pierced  it 
several  times  with  her  bodkin.  The  head  and 
hands  being  afterwards,  by  the  order  of  the 
cruel  Antony,  fixed  upon  the  rostrum,  the  peo¬ 
ple  were  struck  with  horror,  to  see  the  re¬ 
mains  of  a  man,  whose  unequalled  eloquence 
had  so  often  triumphed  in  that  very  place.— 
Thus  died,  about  the  sixty-fourth  year  of  his 
age,  one  of  the  greatest  orators  the  world  ever 
produced. 


/ 


& 


CHAP.  XCV, 


Of  the  Death  of  Brutus  and  Cassius , 


ABOUT  forty  years  before  Christ,  a  deci¬ 
sive  battle  was  fought,  in  which  Antony  com¬ 
manded  on  one  side,  and  Marcus  Brutus  and 
Cassius  on  the  other.  Victory  declared  for 
Antony;  on  which  Cassius,  by  his  own  order, 
was  killed  by  his  servant,  and  Brutus  fell  upon 
his  sword,  and  expired. 

Such  was  the  end  of  Brutus  and  Cassius, 
who,  as  some  relate,  died  with  the  same  wea¬ 
pons  with  which  they  had  stabbed  Csesar.  The 
triumviri,  by  this  victory,  established  their 
empire  on  the  ruins  of  the  commonwealth,  its 
liberties  being  lost  on  the  plains  of  Pharsalia, 

S 


206 


/ 


FLOWERS  OF 


and  buried  with  Brutus  and  Cassius,  (he  last 
Roman  republicans. 

The  conquerors  spent,  some  days  in  wreak-* 
ing  their  vengeance  on  the  persons  of  the  van¬ 
quished,  Brutus’  head  was  sent  to  Rome,  and 
laid  at  the  feet  of  the  late  dictator’s  statue:  at 
the  same  time  his  ashes  were  sent  to  bis  wife 
Portia,  the  daughter  of  Cato,  who,  it  is  said, 
on  receiving  this  sad  present,  killed  herself  by 
eating  hot  burning  coals. 

CHAP.  XCV1. 

Of  Antoni)  and  Cleopatra . 

CiESAR  then  returned  to  Italy,  and  Anto¬ 
ny,  after  visiting  Athens,  where  he  was  present 
at  the  conferences  of  the  philosophers,  crossed 
into  Asia,  with  ail  his  troops,  to  establish  the 
authority  of  the  triumvirate. 

Cleopatra,  queen  of  Egypt,  who  had  poi¬ 
soned  her  younger  brother,  that  she  might 
reign  alone,  met  him  at  Tarsus  in  Cilicia, 
which  proved  his  destruction:  for  her  beauty, 
wit  and  art  inflamed  him  almost  to  madness, 
and  extinguished  all  his  military  ardor. 

Cleopatra  was  then  twenty  live  years  of  age, 
when  the  graces  of  her  person  were  more  pow¬ 
erful  than  the  magnificence  of  her  dress.  The 
.  brilliancy  of  her  equipage,  on  entering  the  ri¬ 
ver  Cydaus,  will  hardly  admit  of  a  descrip¬ 
tion.  The  poop  of  her  ship  flamed  with  gold, 
the  sails  were  of  purple  silk,  and  the  oars  were 
inlaid  with  silver.  A  pavilion  of  cloth  of  gold 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


307 


was  raised  upon  the  deck,  under  which  appear¬ 
ed  the  queen  robed  like  Venus,  and  surroun¬ 
ded  with  the  most  beautiful  virgins  of  her 
court,  of  whom  some  represented  the  Nereids, 
and  others  the  Graces.  Instead  of  trumpets 
were  heard  flutes,  hautboys,  harps,  and  such 
other  musical  instruments,  warbling  the  soft¬ 
est  airs,  to  which  the  oars  kept  time,  and  ren¬ 
dered  the  harmony  enchanting.  Perfumes  were 
burnt  on  the  deck,  which  spread  their  odours 
to  a  great  distance  on  the  river,  whose  shores 
were  covered  with  an  infinite  number  of  peo¬ 
ple,  crying  out,  that  Venus  was  coming  to  make 
Bacchus  a  visit  for  the  good  of  Asia. 

Great  feasts  were  every  day  made  between 
Antony  and  Cleopatra;  and  it  was  at  this  time 
that  Arsinoe,  Cleopatra's  sister,  was,  at  the  re¬ 
quest  of  that  cruel  queen,  put  to  death.  It 
was  also,  at  one  of  these  feasts,  that  Cleopatra 
had  two  of  the  finest  pearls  in  her  ears  that 
were  ever  seen,  each  of  which  being  valued  at 
about  fifty  thousand  pounds  sterling.  She 
melted  one  of  these  pearls  in  vinegar,  and 
swallowed  it.  She  would  have  done  the  same 
with  the  other,  but  was  prevented.  This  other 
pearl  was  afterwards  consecrated  to  Venus,  by 
Augustus,  who  carried  it  from  Alexandria  to 
Rome. 

Cleopatra  accompanied  Antony  as  far  as 
Tyre,  and  he  followed  her  to  Alexandria,  where 
they  spent  the  whole  winter,  in  the  highest  ex¬ 
cess  of  luxury  and  effeminacy.  Antony  after  - 
wards  returned  to  Rome,  and  married  Octavia, 
the  sister  of  Caesar,  and  widow  of  Marcellas; 


FLO  WEBS  OF 


<20S 

but  he  still  retained  his  fondness  for  Cleopa¬ 
tra,  and  met  her  at  a  town  in  Phoenicia,  from 
whence  he  returned  with  her  to  Egypt.  He 
gave  her  Phoenicia,  the  lower  Syria,  and  Cy¬ 
prus,  with  great  part  of  Cilicia,  Judea,  and 
Arabia.  He  also  made  her  a  present  of  the 
libraries  of  Pergamus,  in  which  there  were 
about  two  hundred  thousand  volumes,  and  she 
placed  them  in  a  new  library  which  she  built 
where  the  former  stood.  She  had  a  taste  for 
polite  learning  and  sciences,  and  understood 
several  languages.  She  omitted  no  kind  of  arts 
to  keep  Antony  in  her  chains?  and  lie  entered 
Alexandria  in  triumph,  dragging  at  his  chariot 
wheels  the  king  of  Arminia,  laden  with  golden 
chains,  and  presented  him  in  that  condition  to 
Cleopatra,  who  was  pleased  to  see  a  captive 
king  at  her  feet.  At  one  of  their  banquets; 
when  Antony  was  intoxicated  with  wine,  she 
presumed  to  ask  him  to  give  her  the  Roman 
empire,  which  he  was  not  ashamed  to  promise 
her. 

In  the  mean  time,  Cfesar  having  triumphed 
over  all  the  republicans,  thought  it  time  to 
break  with  his  colleagues.  He  wanted  to  reign 
singly,  and  was  therefore  determined,  if  possi¬ 
ble,  to  rid  himself  of  them.  He  easily  remo¬ 
ved  Lepidus,  who  being  little  esteemed  by  his 
soldiers,  was  abandoned  by  them  in  the  midst 
of  bis  camp,  which  Csesar  became  master  of, 
by  his  artful  conduct,  and  secret  negotiations. 
Lepidus  was  afterwards  reduced  to  such  an  ab¬ 
ject  slate,  as  to  become  even  the  pity  of  his  en¬ 
emies. 

Cleopatra  had  two  sons  by  Antony,  one  of 


ANCIENT  HISTORY* 


209’ 


whom  was  called  Alexandria,  and  the  other 
Ptolemy.  He  heaped  a  profusion  of  honors  on 
these  young  princes,  and  celebrated  the  coro¬ 
nation  of  their  mother  with  the  utmost  magni¬ 
ficence.  Matters  being  carried  to  this  pitch 
by  Antony,  he  gave  great  disgust  to  the  Ro¬ 
mans,  and  particularly  to  Octavia,  his  wife— 
She  set  out  to  meet  Antony,  with  Caesar’s  con¬ 
sent,  who  gave  it  with  no  other  view,  but  that 
Antony’s  passion  for  Cleopatra,  might  induce 
him  to  act  dishonorably  by  Octavia,  and  there¬ 
by  increasing  the  indignation  of  the  Romans 
against  Antony,  he  should  have  a  plausible  pre¬ 
tence  for  drawing  bis  sword  against  him. 

Every  thing  succeeded  to  Caesar’s  wishes? 
for  Octavia  received  a  letter  from  Antony,  in 
which  she  was  ordered  to  come  no  further  than 
Athens;  and  accordingly  stopped  there.  Cleo¬ 
patra,  who  very  much  dreaded  the  charms  and 
virtues  of  Octavia,  employed  all  her  artifice  to 
prevent  Antony  from  giving  her  a  meeting.— 
She  assumed  an  air  of  melancholv,  and  would 
frequently  let  fall  a  tear  on  his  approach, which 
she  would  wipe  away  immediately,  affecting  to 
conceal  her  weakness  and  grief.  This  had  its 
desired  effect;  for  he  at  last  ordered  Octavia  to 
return  to  Rome.  On  her  return,  she  took  the 
greatest  care  of  her  family,  and  behaved  in 
such  a  manner  as  procured  her  immortal  honor* 
She  loved  her  husband  in  spite  of  his  ill  treat¬ 
ment,  and  could  not  bear  to  think  that  his  un¬ 
generous  behavior  to  her  should  again  kindle 
the  flames  of  a  civil  war. 

How  opposite  was  the  character  of  Octavia 
a  % 


'210 


FliOWERS  Of 


to  that  of  Cleopatra!  How  amiable  does  the 
former  appear,  even  amidst  repeated  insults^ 
and  how  contemptible  the  latter,  amidst  the 
parade  of  magnificence. 

Antony  now  suffered  himself  to  be  persua¬ 
ded  to  divorce  Oetavia,  and  declare  war  against 
Cresar,  both  of  which  he  accordingly  did.  He 
then  assembled  his  forces  at  Samos,  where  he 
and  Cleopatra  lived  as  luxuriously  as  they  had 
done  in  Egypt.  Hither  several  kings  had  or¬ 
ders  to  send  arms,  provisions,  and  soldiers;  and 
others  to  send  musicians,  dancers,  and  buffoons; 
so  that  frequently,  when  a  ship  was  thought  to 
come  loaded  with  military  stores,  it  proved  to 
be  only  scenes,  players,  and  machines. 

Antony’s  temper,  however,  began  at  last  to 
be  much  soured,  and  he  even  suspected  that 
Cleopatra  had  designs  upon  his  life,  and  would 
never  eat  any  thing  till  she  had  first  tasted  it. 
Cleopatra  perceiving  his  suspicion,  poisoned 
the  tops  of  the  flowers,  which  she  and  Antony, 
according  to  the  custom  of  those  times,  were 
crowned  with  at  their  meals.  Antony  being 
inflamed  with  wine,  Cleopatra  proposed  drink¬ 
ing  their  flowers;  on  which  he  instantly  broke 
off  the  tops  of  them  with  his  fingers,  and  throw¬ 
ing  them  into  a  goblet  of  wine,  was  going  to 
drink  them,  when  Cleopatra  stopping  him,  said, 
“I  am  the  person  who  you  suspect  of  designing 
to  poison  you;  but  now  judge  whether  I  should 
want  opportunities  to  despatch  you,  if  you  were 
become  tiresome  to  me,  or  if  I  could  live  with¬ 
out  you.”  Then  ordering  a  prisoner  to  be 
brought  in,  who  had  been  sentenced  to  die,  she 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


211 

obliged  him  to  drink  off  the  liquor,  when  he 
expired  immediately.  This  rivetted  Antony’s 
letters  beyond  all  hopes  of  shaking  them  off, 

CHAP,  XCV1I. 

Of  the  Battle  of  Jlctium ,  and  the  Death  of  JLu* 

tony . 

ANTONY,  being  lost  in  luxury  and  effemi¬ 
nacy  with  Cleopatra,  gave  Csesar  time  to  get 
his  forces  together,  who  might  otherwise  have 
been  easily  defeated,  had  Antony  come  upon 
him  before  he  was  prepared.  Antony’s  fleet 
consisted  of  five  hundred  large  ships,  on  board 
of  which  was  an  army  of  two  hundred  thou¬ 
sand  foot,  and  twenty-two  thousand  horse, 
Csesar  had  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  ships^ 
eighty  thousand  foot,  and  twelve  thousand 
horse.  Antony  was  advised  by  his  ablest  com¬ 
manders  not  to  engage  by  sea;  but  Cleopatra 
advising  to  the  contrary,  they  came  to  a  gene¬ 
ral  engagement  near  the  city  of  Actium  in  Epi¬ 
rus.  Victory  was  for  some  time  doubtful,  till 
the  retreat  of  Cleopatra,  who  fled  with  the 
whole  Egyptian  squadron,  and  was  precipi¬ 
tately  followed  by  Antony,  declaring  every 
thing  was  lost;  for  Antony’s  army  immediately 
submitted  to  Csesar. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra  escaped  to  Alexan¬ 
dria,  where  she  put  many  great  persons  to 
death,  fearing  they  might  take  up  arms  against 
her,  on  account  of  the  defeat  she  had  met  with. 
To  avoid  falling  into  the  hands  of  Csesar,  she 


FLOW EllS  OF 


a  i  c> 

AJ  1  -V 

formed  the  most  extraordinary  design  of  hav¬ 
ing  her  ships  in  the  Mediterranean,  carried  into 
the  Red  Sea,  over  the  isthmus  of  seventy 
miles;  but  in  this  she  was  prevented  by  the 
Arabians,  who  burnt  them  all.  Antony  finding 
himself  deserted  by  all  his  followers,  for  some 
time  secluded  himstlf  from  company  in  his 
house,  which  lie  called  Timonium,  where  he 
pretended  to  act  the  part  of  Timon  the  man- 
hater;  but  he  soon  returned  to  Cleopatra,  and 
with  her  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

They  agreed  to  send  ambassadors  to  Csesar 
to  sue  for  peace;  and  Antony  submitted  to  the 
meanness  of  demanding  life  of  him,  on  the 
shameful  conditions  of  passing  it  at  Athens,  as 
a  private  person,  if  Csesar  would  give  Egypt  to 
Cleopatra  and  her  children.  The  queen,  how¬ 
ever,  was  so  treacherous  as  to  give  private  or¬ 
ders  to  her  ambassadors,  to  mention  her  only 
in  the  treaty.  Csesar  would  not  admit  Anto¬ 
ny’s  ambassador’s  to  an  audience;  but  he  gave 
a  favorable  reception  to  those  of  the  queen,  be¬ 
ing  particularly  desirous  of  securing  her  per¬ 
son  to  adorn  his  triumph,  and  her  treasures,  to 
enable  him  to  pay  the  debts  be  had  contracted 
to  defray  the  expense  of  the  war. 

The  ambassadors  proving  unsuccessful,  An¬ 
tony  endeavored  to  extinguish  in  himself  the 
sense  of  bis  present  misfortunes,  and  the  ap¬ 
prehension  of  those  that  threatened  him,  by 
abandoning  himself  to  feasting  and  voluptuous¬ 
ness.  Cleopatra  and  he  regaled  themselves 
alternately,  and  emulously  contended  to  excel 
each  other  iu  the  incredible  magnificence  of 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


213 

their  banquets.  Cleopatra,  however*  foresaw 
what  might  happen,  and  collected  all  sorts  of 
poison,  to  try  which  of  them  occasioned  death 
with  the  least  pain.  She  made  the  experiment 
of  their  virtues  and  strength  upon  condemned 
criminals,  whereby  she  found,  that  the  strong¬ 
est  poisons  caused  death  the  soonest,  but  with 
great  torment;  but  that  those  which  are  gen¬ 
tle,  brought  an  easy  but  slow  death.  She  tried 
the  bitings  of  venomous  creatures,  and  caused 
various  kinds  of  serpents  to  be  applied  to  dif¬ 
ferent  persons.  She  every  day  made  these  ex¬ 
periments,  and  discovered  at  length  that  the 
asp  was  the  only  one  which  caused  neither  tor¬ 
ture  nor  convulsions,  and  which,  throwing  the 
person  bit  into  an  immediate  heaviness  and  stu¬ 
pefaction,  attended  with  a  slight  perspiration 
upon  the  face,  and  a  numbness  of  all  the  or¬ 
gans  of  sense,  gently  extinguished  life;  so  that 
those  who  were  in  that  condition,  were  angry 
when  anv  one  awakened  them,  or  endeavored 
to  make  them  rise,  like  people  exceedingly 
sleepy.  This  was  the  poison  she  fixed  upon; 
but  applied  herself  with  extraordinary  solici¬ 
tude  in  caressing  Antony,  to  dispel  his  suspi¬ 
cions  and  complaints. 

Caesar  being  fully  sensible,  that  it  was  of 
the  highest  importance  to  him  not  to  leave  his 
victory  unfinished,  invested  Pelusium,  and  sum¬ 
moned  the  governor  to  open  the  gates.  Se- 
leucus,  who  commanded  there  for  Cleopatra, 
had  received  secret  orders  upon  that  head,  and 
surrendered  the  place  without  waiting  for  a 
siege.  Such  was  the  wickedness  of  this  queen* 


214 


FLOWERS  OF 


in  whom  the  most  odious  vices  were  complica¬ 
ted.  She  absolutely  renounced  all  modesty, 
had  a  violent  propensity  to  fraud,  injustice  and 
cruelty;  and  what  was  worse  than  all,  was  a 
most  detestable  hypocrite.  While  the  rumor 
©f  this  treason  spread  through  the  city,  Cleo¬ 
patra  ordered  her  most  precious  moveables  to  be 
carried  to  a  place  of  security. 

Caesar  was  in  hopes  of  making  himself  mas¬ 
ter  of  Alexandria  in  a  short  time,  by  means  of 
the  intelligence  he  held  with  Cleopatra,  on 
which  he  relied  no  less  than  his  army.  Anto¬ 
ny  being  ignorant  of  her  intrigues,  prepared  for 
an  obstinate  defence.  He  made  a  vigorous 
sally,  and  returned  victorious  into  the  city, 
which  was  the  last  effort  of  his  expiring  genius; 
for,  after  this  exploit,  his  fortitude  and  sense  of 
glory  forsook  him,  or  were  of  no  more  service 
to  him.  Instead  of  pursuing  his  victory,  and 
keeping  a  watchful  eye  over  Cleopatra,  who 
betrayed  him,  he  flew  to  her  in  his  armor,  and 
threw  himself  at  her  feet.  The  palace  echoed 
with  acclamations,  as  though  the  siege  had 
been  raised,  and  Antony  and  Cleopatra  spent 
that  day,  and  part  of  the  night,  in  the  most 
abandoned  folly. 

Antonv  now  resolved  to  make  the  last  at- 
tempt  both  by  sea  and  land,  with  a  fixed  reso¬ 
lution  to  conquer  or  die.  He  ordered  his  at¬ 
tendants  to  fill  him  out  wine  plentifully,  saying, 
“This  may  be,  perhaps,  the  last  piece  of  service 
you  will  be  able  to  do  me;  for  to-morrow  you 
may  change  your  master,  when  I,  stretched  on 
the  ground,  shall  be  no  more,” 


ANCIENT  HISTORY, 


iilb 


On  the  approach  of  day,  Antony  drew  up 
his  forces  on  some  rising  ground  out  of  the 
city,  and  from  (hence  beheld  his  gallics  which 
were  rowing  out  of  the  port,  and  going  to  at¬ 
tack  those  of  Csesar;  but  how  shall  l  express 
his  astonishment  when  he  beheld  his  admiral 
delivering  up  his  fleet  to  his  enemy!  At  the 
same  time  his  cavalry  seeing  this,  deserted  him 
and  went  over  to  Csesar,  when  his  infantry  was 
obliged  to  submit.  Unhappy  Antony,  in  vain 
do  you  fly  to  the  palace  to  seek  Cleopatra,  that 
you  may  murder  her  for  her  perfidy;  she  is  not 
there;  t lie  ignominious  wretch  is  retired! 

Cleopatra  had  secured  herself  from  his  fury 
among  the  tombs,  which  quarter  was  fortified 
with  good  walls,  and  the  gates  were  shut.  She 
desired  that  Antony  should  be  told  that  she  had 
destroyed  herself.  Struck  with  the  idea  of  her 
death,  he  passed  immediately  from  the  excess 
of  rage  to  the  most  violent  transports  of  grief, 
and  thought  only  of  following  her  to  the  grave. 
Having  taken  ibis  resolution,  he  shut  himself 
up  in  his  apartment  with  a  freed- man,  whom 
he  had  caused  to  take  off  his  armor,  and  com¬ 
manded  him  to  plunge  his  dagger  into  his  bo¬ 
som.  But  his  servant,  full  of  affection,  res¬ 
pect,  and  fidelity  for  his  master,  stabbed  him¬ 
self  with  iL  and  fell  dead  at  his  feet.  Antony 
looking  upon  this  action  as  an  example  for  him 
to  follow,  thrust  his  sword  into  his  body,  and 
fell  upon  the  floor  in  a  torrent  of  his  blood, 
which  he  mingled  with  that  of  his  faithful  ser¬ 
vant* 

At  that  moment  an  officer  came  to  let  him 


216 


FLOWERS  OF 


know  that  Cleopatra  was  alive.  He  no  sooner 
heard  her  name  pronounced,  than  he  opened 
his  dying  eyes,  suffered  his  wounds  to  be  dres¬ 
sed,  and  caused  himself  to  he  carried  to  the 
fort,  where  she  had  shut  herself  up.  Cleopa¬ 
tra  would  not  permit  the  gates  to  be  opened  to 
give  him  entrance,  for  fear  of  some  surprise; 
but  she  appeared  at  a  lofty  window',  from 
whence  she  threw  down  chains  and  cords.  An¬ 
tony  was  made  fast  to  these,  and  Cleopatra,  as¬ 
sisted  by  two  women,  who  were  the  only  per¬ 
sons  she  had  brought  with  her  to  the  tombs, 
drew  him  up.  Never  was  there  a  more  mo¬ 
ving  sight.  Antony  all  bathed  in  his  blood, 
with  death  painted  in  Ins  face,  was  dragged  up 
into  (he  air,  turning  his  dying  eyes,  and  ex¬ 
tending  his  feeble  hands  to  Cleopatra,  as  if  to 
conjure  her  to  receive  his  last  breath;  while 
she  with  her  features  distorted,  and  her  arms 
strained,  pulled  the  cord  with  her  whole 
strength.  When  she  had  drawn  him  up  to  her, 
and  placed  him  on  a  bed,  she  threw  her  clothes 
upon  him,  and  making  the  most  mournful  ex¬ 
clamations,  cut  off  his  hair,  according  to  the 
superstition  of  the  pagans,  that  that  was  a  re¬ 
lief  to  those  who  died  a  violent  death.  Her 
cries  recalling  his  fainting  spirits,  and  seeing 
the  affliction  she  was  in,  he  told  her,  with  a 
view  to  comfort  her,  that  he  should  die  in  peace, 
since  he  would  expire  in  her  arms;  and  that 
he  did  not  blush  at  his  defeat,  since  he  had  been 
vanquished  by  Romans.  Having  thus  spoken, 
he  expired,  being  then  in  the  fifty-third  year 
of  his  age.  His  death  put  an  end  to  all  civil 


ANCIENT  HISTORY* 


217 


wars,  and  gave  Csesar  an  opportunity  of  com¬ 
pleting  his  ambitious  designs. 

CHAP.  XCVIII. 

Of  the  Death  of  Cleopatra . 

JUST  about  the  time  that  Antony  breathed 
his  last,  Proculeius,  who  had  received  particu¬ 
lar  orders  to  seize  Cleopatra,  arrived  from 
C?esar.  He  could  not  refrain  from  shedding 
tears  on  this  melancholy  occasion,  which  was 
aggravated  by  the  bloody  sword  that  was  pre¬ 
sented  to  him.  The  queen  refused  to  go  with 
him,  but  permitted  him  to  speak  to  her  from 
without. 

Proculeius  after  having  observed  the  situa¬ 
tion  of  the  sepulchre,  went  and  informed  Csesar 
of  his  observations.  Csesar  then  sent  Gallus 
to  speak  with  her,  which  he  did  in  the  same 
manner  as  Proculeius.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
latter  bringing  a  ladder,  and  being  followed  by 
two  officers,  got  in  at  the  window,  where  An¬ 
tony  had  been  drawn  up,  and  went  down  to  the 
gate,  where  Cleopatra  was  talking  to  Gallus. 
One  of  her  female  attendants  seeing  him, 
shrieked  and  cried  out,  4‘1I1  fated  princess,  thou 
art  taken!”  Cleopatra  had  raised  a  dagger  to 
stab  herself,  when  Proculeius  catching  her  in 
his  arms,  thus  addressed  her:  “You  injure 
both  Caesar  and  yourself,  in  attempting  to  de¬ 
prive  him  of  so  noble  an  opportunity  to  exert 
his  clemency.”  He  seized  her  dagger,  and 
shook  her  robes,  to  discover  if  any  poison  was 

T 


FLOWERS  OF 


218 


concealed  under  them.  Csesar  then  sent  a 
freed- man  to  guard  Cleopatra,  ordering  him  to 
use  her  like  a  queen,  but  to  prevent  her  from 
laying  violent  hands  upon  herself. 

Csesar  then  entered  Alexandria  without  fur¬ 
ther  opposition,  and  gave  Cleopatra  fair  hopes 
of  the  kindest  treatment;  though  he  intended 
only  to  pervert  her  treasure  to  his  own  purpo¬ 
ses*  and  reserve  her  person  to  grace  his  tri¬ 
umph.  But  when  he  had  both  in  his  power,  he 
disregarded  her,  and  she  found  she  had  no  other 
means  of  avoiding  the  disgrace  of  adding  to  the 
glory  of  his  triumph,  than  by  putting  a  period 
to  her  life. 

Csesar  went  and  paid  her  a  visit,  when  she 
endeavored  to  captivate  this  young  conqueror, 
as  she  had  before  captivated  Julius  Csesar  and 
Antony.  But  alas,  the  charm  was  now  broken! 
Csesar  with  the  utmost  coolness  only  advised 
her  not  to  despond,  declaring  that  he  would 
treat  her  with  all  possible  tenderness. 

Ife  permitted  her  to  dispose  of  her  jewels 
as  she  thought  proper;  and,  after  giving  her 
the  kindest  assurances,  he  left  her.  Csesar 
imagined  he  had  artfully  over-reached  Cleopa¬ 
tra,  by  inspiring  her  with  the  love  of  life,  w  hich 
he  in  fact  wished  to  prolong,  only  for  the  sake 
of  his  triumph;  but  herein  he  soon  found  his 
mistake. 

Csesar  had  before  given  Cleopatra  leave  to 
bury  Antony,  which  she  did  with  the  utmost 
magnificence.  According  to  the  custom  of 
Egypt,  she  caused  his  body  to  be  embalmed 
with  the  most  exquisite  perfumes  of  the  east. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


219 


aiul  placed  it  among  the  tombs  of  the  Egyp¬ 
tian  kings. 

Cleopatra  hearing  that  Csesar  intended  to 
send  fcer  and  her  children  away  within  three 
days,  conjured  him  to  let  her  pay  her  last  ob¬ 
lations  to  the  remains  of  Antony,  which  he 
granted.  She  then  visited  Antony’s  tomb, 
strewing  it  with  flowers,  and  watering  it  with 
tears.  She  then  returned  to  her  chamber,  went 
into  a  hath,  and  from  thence  to  table,  where  a 
splendid  entertainment  was  prepared.  When 
she  rose  from  table,  she  wrote  a  letter  to  Csesar, 
wherein  she  earnestly  desired  to  he  laid  in  the 
same  tomb  with  Antony;  and  having  made  all 
leave  her  chamber,  except  her  two  women,  she 
shut  the  door,  sat  down  upon  a  bed,  and  asked 
for  a  basket  of  figs,  which  a  peasant  had  lately 
brought.  This  supposed  peasant  was  one  of 
the  queen’s  domestics,  who  had  eluded  the  vi¬ 
gilance  of  the  guards.  She  placed  the  basket 
by  her,  and  a  moment  after  lay  down,  as  if  she 
had  fallen  asleep;  but  this  was  the  effect  of  the 
asp,  which  was  concealed  among  the  fruit,  and 
had  stung  her  in  the  arm,  which  she  had  held 
to  it.  The  poison  immediately  communicated 
to  her  heart,  and  killed  her  without  pain. 

Thus  died,  in  the  thirty-ninth  year  of  her 
age,  this  princess,  whose  wit  and  beauty  had 
made  so  much  noise  in  the  world,  after  having 
reigned  twenty-two  years  from  the  death  of  her 
father,  twelve  thereof  she  had  passed  with  An¬ 
tony.  She  was  a  w  oman  of  great  parts,  as  well 
as  of  great  wickedness,  and  spoke  several  lan¬ 
guages  with  the  utmost  readiness.  In  her 


220 


FLOWERS  OF 


death  ended  the  reign  of  the  Ptolomies  in 
Egypt,  after  it  had  continued  from  the  death  of 
Alexander  29*  years. 

Csesar,  on  the  receipt  of  Cleopatra’s  letter, 
instantly  dispatched  a  messenger  to  her,  who 
found  her  dead  on  a  golden  couch,  dressed  in 
royal  robes,  looking  like  one  asleep,  with  one 
of  her  maids  dead  at  her  feet,  and  the  other 
expiring.  Csesar  was  very  much  troubled  at 
Cleopatra’s  death,  as  it  robbed  him  of  the  no¬ 
blest  ornament  of  his  triumph.  He  ordered 
her  body  to  be  buried  near  that  of  Antony, 
agreeably  to  her  request,  which  was  accord¬ 
ingly  done  with  the  greatest  funeral  pomp. 
Her  women  had  also  a  pompous  interment,  in 
memory  of  their  fidelity.  After  Cleopatra’s 
death,  Egypt  was  made  a  Roman  province,  and 
governed  by  a  prefect  sent  from  Rome  for  that 
purpose. 

Caesar  having  now  greatly  enlarged  the  Ro¬ 
man  dominions,  was  received  at  Rome  as  a  con¬ 
queror,  who  had  put  an  end  to  the  miseries  and 
calamities  of  most  nations.  He  triumphed 
three  days  successively  with  extraordinary 
magnificence;  first  for  Illyrieum,  secondly  for 
the  victory  at  Actium,  and  thirdly  for  the  con¬ 
quest  of  Egypt.  On  this  occasion  the  temple 
of  Janus  was  shut,  which  was  the  third  time 
since  the  foundation  of  Rome,  after  having 
stood  open  205  years. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


221 


CHAP.  XC1X. 

Octavius  Caesar  assumes  the  title  of  Augustus 

and  Emperor, 

OCTAVIUS  CiESAR,  now  considering 
himself  as  supreme  governor  of  the  Roman  em¬ 
pire,  assumed  the  title  of  Augustus  and  Empe¬ 
ror,  and  resolved  to  shew  all  the  clemency  of 
a  wise  prince,  as  well  as  the  art  of  a  refined 
politician.  His  first  care  was  to  make  the  ad¬ 
herents  of  Antony  his  friends,*  after  this  he 
gave  splendid  entertainments  to  those  in  power, 
and  amused  the  people  with  shows  and  plays*. 
He  regulated  the  many  abuses  that  had  crept 
into  the  state,  banished  corruption  from  the 
senate,  and  allowed  the  people  the  free  posses¬ 
sion  of  their  liberties.  Having  settled  every 
thing  in  the  most  excellent  order,  a  variety  of 
thoughts  crowded  into  his  mind,  and  he  reflec¬ 
ted  for  a  considerable  time,  whether  he  should 
continue  to  rule  the  empire,  or  restore  it  to 
its  former  state.  Scylla  and  Julius  Csesar 
were  two  examples  too  recent  to  he  forgotten. 
The  former,  by  giving  up  his  power,  was  suf¬ 
fered  to  die  peaceably  in  his  bed,*  whereas,  the 
latter,  by  maintaining  it,  was  assassinated  by 
the  hands  of  his  best  friends,  who  afterwards 
triumphed  in  the  deed. 

Not  being  able  to  determine  for  himself,  he 
consulted  his  two  best  friends,  Agrippa  and 
Mecsenas.  Agrippa  advised  him  to  resign  it; 
but  Mecsenas  was  of  a  different  opinion.  lie 
insisted  on  it,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 

t 


O 


222  iXOWEltS  Of 

the  state  to  subsist  but  under  a  monarch,  whose 
person  and  power  would  be  equally  secure,  un¬ 
der  a  mild  and  wise  administration.  He  fol¬ 
lowed  the  advice  of  Meegenas,  and  though  he 
offered  to  resign  his  power,  he  had  no  inten¬ 
tion  of  so  doing.  The  senate  and  people,  how¬ 
ever,  unanimously  refused  to  accept  his  resig¬ 
nation;  *so  that  he  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
lorcted  to  accept  of  that  which  he  wished  for. 

It  may  be  said,  that  now  ended  the  greatest 
commonwealth  upon  earth,  and  commenced  the 
greatest  monarchy.  The  empire  of  Rome  was 
extended  over  the  whole  globe.  In  Europe, 
they  were  in  possession  of  Italy,  both  the 
Gauls,  Spain,  Lusitahia,  Greece,  Illyricum, 
Dacia,  Pannonia,  w  ith  part  of  Britain  and  Ger¬ 
many;  in  Asia,  of  Asia  Minor,  Armenia,  Sy¬ 
ria,  Judea,  Mesopotamia,  and  Media;  in  Afri¬ 
ca,  of  Egypt,  Numidia,  Mauritania  and  Lybia. 

Besides  these  great  nations*  many  lesser  pro¬ 
vinces  and  islands  were  tributary  to  the  Ro¬ 
mans.  At  home,  also,  on  a  lustrum  of  the 
people  now  made,  there  were  found  four  mil¬ 
lions  sixty-three  thousand  inhabitants,  in  the 
city  and  suburbs  of  Rome,  which  at  this  time 
was  about  fifty  miles  in  compass. 

After  Augustus  was  invested  with  the  su¬ 
preme  power,  he  governed  with  great  modera¬ 
tion,  insomuch  that  the  Romans  became  fond  of 
his  government,  and  in  full  senate  gave  him  the 
title  of  the  “Father  of  his  country.”  He  acted 
with  so  much  justice  and  clemency,  that  after 
his  death,  it  was  said  of  him,  that  it  had  been 
w  ell  he  had  never  been  born,  or  had  never  died. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


223 


From  the  battle  of  Actium,  Augustus  reigned 
forty-four  years,  and  died  at  Nola  in  Campa¬ 
nia,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age. 

In  the  reign  of  this  prince,  when  all  the 
world  was  at  peace,  was  horn  at  Bethlehem  in 
Judea,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  Jesus  Christ  our 
Saviour.  Herod  was,  at  this  time,  the  Roman 
governor  of  Judea  under  Augustus;  Cornelius 
Lentulus,  and  Calpurnius  Piso,  were  consuls  at 
Rome. 

ciiap.  c. 

the  Arts  and  Sciences ,  and  Learned  Men 
among  the  Romans . 

DURING  the  first  ages  of  the  republic,  the 
Romans  lived  in  a  total  neglect,  or  rather  con¬ 
tempt  of  all  the  elegant  improvements  of  life. 
War,  politics,  and  agriculture,  were  the  only 
arts  they  studied,  because  they  were  the  only 
arts  they  esteemed.  But  upon  the  downfal  of 
Carthage,  the  Romans  having  no  enemy  to 
dread  from  abroad,  began  to  taste  the  sweets  of 
security,  and  to  cultivate  the  arts. 

Their  progress,  however,  was  not  gradual, 
as  in  the  other  countries  we  have  described. 
The  conquest  of  Greece  at  once  put  them  in 
possession  of  every  thing  most  rare,  curious  or 
elegant. 

Asia,  which  was  the  next  victim,  offered  all 
its  stores;  and  the  Romans,  from  the  most  sim¬ 
ple  people,  speedily  became  acquainted  with 
the  arts,  the  luxuries>  and  refinements  of  the 
whole  earth. 


FLOWERS  OF 


m 

Eloquence  they  had  always  cultivated  as  (lie 
high  road  to  eminence  and  preferment.  The 
orations  of  Cicero  are  inferior  only  to  those  of 
Demosthenes. 

In  poetry,  Virgil  yields  only  to  Homer, 
whose  verse,  like  the  prose  of  Demosthenes, 
may  be  considered  as  inimitable.  Horace,  how¬ 
ever,  in  his  satires  and  epistles,  has  no  model 
among  the  Greeks,  and  stands  to  this  day  unri¬ 
valled  in  that  species  of  writing. 

In  history,  the  Romans  can  boast  of  Livy, 
who  possesses  all  the  natural  ease  of  Herodo¬ 
tus,  and  is  more  descriptive,  more  eloquent, 
and  sentimental.  Tacitus,  indeed,  did  not  flou* 
risk  in  the  Augustan  age,  but  his  works  do 
Siimself  the  greatest  honor,  while  they  disgrace 
bis  country  and  human  nature,  whose  corrup¬ 
tion  and  vices  he  paints  in  the  most  striking 
colors. 

In  philosophy,  if  we  except  the  works  of  Ci¬ 
cero,  and  the  system  of  the  Greek  philosopher 
Epicurus,  described  in  the  nervous  poetry  of 
Lucretus,  the  Romans,  during  the  time  of  the 
republic,  made  not  the  least  attempt. 

In  tragedy,  they  never  produced  any  thing 
excellent;  and  Terence,  though  remarkable 
for  purity  of  style,  wants  that  comica  vis,  or 
lively  vein  of  humor,  which  distinguishes  the 
Greek  comedians,  as  well  as  our  Sba&espeare. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


225 


CHAP.  CL 

Of  the  Manners  and  'principal  Occupations  oj ' 
the  ancient  Romans. 

UNDER  the  kings,  the  necessities  of  life 
and  the  dangers  of  war  divided  the  cares  of  the 
Roman  people,  for  the  space  of  244  years.  Un¬ 
der  the  consuls,  when  they  had  no  war  abroad, 
they  were  agitated  at  home  by  ail  evil  still 
more  dangerous.  The  domineering  spirit  of 
the  patricians,  opposed  by  that  of  independence 
among  the  plebeians,  held  Rome  in  almost  con¬ 
tinual  broils.  Thus,  between  domestic  trou¬ 
bles,  and  foreign  wars,  the  ancient  Romans  had 
only  short  intervals  of  tranquility.  These  pre¬ 
cious  times  were  given  to  agriculture.  Then 
the  difference  in  ranks  made  none  in  occupa¬ 
tions.  The  great  were  not  less  laborious  than 
the  common  people;  and  those  two  conditions, 
so  distinct  in  the  city,  under  the  titles  of  patri¬ 
cians  and  plebeians,  in  the  country,  were  lost 
in  the  general  name  of  husbandmen. 

The  first  magistrates,  and  the  generals  of 
the  armies,  cultivated  their  fields  and  threshed 
their  grain  with  those  arms  which  had  van¬ 
quished  the  enemy  and  supported  the  state. 
And  the  Roman  people  blushed  not  to  give  the 
command  of  their  armies  to  those  illustrious 
laborers,  taken  from  the  plough  to  be  entrusted 
with  the  safety  of  their  country. 

History  furnishes  many  of  those  examples, 
not  only  in  the  early  times  of  the  republic,  but 
also  in  those  flourishing  ages,  when  the  Ro- 


226 


FLOWERS  OF 


mans,  already  masters  of  Italy,  caused  their 
power  to  be  respected  beyond  the  seas. 

I  speak  not,  therefore,  of  Quintius  Cineinna- 
tus  alone,  who  was  found  working  in  the  field 
by  those  who  came  to  salute  him  dictator.  Mar¬ 
cus  Curius,  after  having  conquered  the  Sabines 
and  (he  Sammies,  and  after  having  driven  Pjrr- 
bus  out  of  Italy,  was  possessed  of  but  one  small 
farm,  which  he  cultivated  himself.  The  elder 
Cato  was  never  weary  of  visiting  it,  and  could 
but  admire  the  greatness  of  soul  of  its  master, 
whom  he  took  for  his  model.  By  his  example 
he  betook  himself  to  agriculture.  He  has  even 
left  us  some  works  upon  the  subject.  He  went 
out  to  work  with  his  slaves,  and  returned  to  sit 
at  the  same  table,  eating  the  same  bread  with 
them,  and  drinking  of  the  same  wine.  Seipio 
Afrieanus,  after  having  defeated  in  Spain  four 
of  the  greatest  Carthagenian  generals,  after  ha¬ 
ving  conquered  Hannibal  himself,  and  rendered 
Carthage  tributary  to  Rome,  took  up  the  spade? 
planted  and  grafted  his  trees. 

If  the  magistrates  and  great  men  lived  in  this 
manner,  what  may  we  judge  of  the  other  citi- 
nens,  who,  still  more  attached  to  the  culture  of 
their  lands,  because  more  at  their  own  liberty, 
quitted  it  not  unless  called  to  the  toils  of  war? 
The  Romans,  in  the  first  and  happy  ages  of  the 
republic,  (I  speak  of  those  in  the  easiest  cir¬ 
cumstances,)  were  all  laborers,  and  all  the  la¬ 
borers  were  soldiers. 

Such  were  the  manners  and  principal  occu¬ 
pations  of  the  Roman  people,  before  they  were 
corrupted  by  riches  and  luxury.  Probity,  sim- 


4NCIENT  HISTORY. 


227 


plteiiy,  ami  the  love  of  labor,  were  virtues  as 
common  at  Rome  in  those  times,  as  they  were 
rare  in  the  succeeding  ages,  “For  when  riches, 
(says  Sallust,)  began  to  be  held  in  honor,  and 
were  found  necessary  to  pave  the  way  to  power 
and  glory,  virtue  was  no  longer  esteemed;  pov¬ 
erty  was  counted  shameful,  purity  of  manners 
was  looked  upon  as  the  effect  of  melancholy  and 
misanthropy;  and  the  fruits  of  these  riches  were 
luxury,  avarice,  and  pride. 

CHAP.  OIL 

Of  the  Roman  meals ,  and  their  behaviour  at  table . 

IN  the  glorious  days  of  the  republic,  meals 
were  prepared  with  care,  but  without  art  or 
delicacy.  Gaiety,  and  the  freedom  of  agreeable 
conversation,  gave  them  their  highest  relish. 
Cato  the  censor,  as  austere  as  he  was  upon  other 
occasions,  unbended  his  brow  at  table.  He  pro¬ 
fessed  himself  well  pleased  with  his  old  age, 
which,  whilst  it  diminished  the  necessity  of 
eating  and  drinking,  made  amends  by  the  taste 
for,  and  pleasure  of  conversation. 

When  he  was  at  his  country  house,  he  al¬ 
ways  invited  some  of  his  friends  to  supper,  and 
made  merry  with  them.  His  long  experience 
of  the  world  rendered  his  conversation  equally 
useful  to  persons  of  his  own  age,  and  to  young 
people.  All  listened  to  him  with  pleasure. 
Persuaded  that  the  table  preserves  friendship, 
the  common  conversation  at  Cato’s  table  was 
in  praise  of  illustrious  citizens;  and  he  allowed 


FLOWERS  OF 


228 

no  other  persons,  either  to  be  well  or  ill  spoken 
of.  He  was  attentive  and  dexterous  in  evading 
all  occasions  for  doing  it. 

It  was  thus  by  the  help  of  conversation,  the 
ancients  rendered  the  pleasures  of  the  table 
useful,  and  that  they  avoided  the  usual  conse¬ 
quences  of  licentiousness  at  meals.  Horace 
still  preserved  that  taste,  and  was  sensible  of 
all  its  value. 

O  nodes  ccenceque  deum ,  6r....Hor«  Sat.  6.  Lib.  2, 

“O  nights  that  furnish  such  a  feast: 

As  even  gods  themselves  might  taste! 

Thus  fare  my  lriends,  thus  feed  my  slaves. 

Alert  on  what  their  master  leaves. 

“Each  person  there  may  drink  and  fill 
As  much  or  little  as  he  will, 

Exempted  from  the  bedlam-rules 
Of  roaring  prodigals  and  fools; 

Whether  in  merry  mood  or  whim, 

,He  takes  a  bumper  to  the  brim, 

Or  better  pleas’d  to  let  it  pass, 

Grows  mellow  with  a  scanty  glass. 

“Nor  this  man’s  house,  nor  that’s  estate, 

Becomes  the  subject  of  debate; 

Nor  whether  Lepos,  the  buffoon, 

Can  dance  or  not,  a  rigadoon: 

But  what  concents  us  more,  I  trow, 

And  were  a  scandal  not  to  know, 

If  happiness  consists  in  store 
Of  riches,  or  in  virtue  more; 

Whether  esteem  or  private  ends,  _ 

Directs  us  in  our  choice  of  friends; 

What’s  real  good  without  disguise, 

And  where  its  great  perfection  lies.”.. ..Francis'  Horae:. 

Cut  the  Asiatic  luxury  making  its  way  to 
Rome,  very  soon  infected  their  tables.  Sump¬ 
tuousness,  delicacy,  and  profusion,  were  carried 
to  the  greatest  excess.  The  cook,  who  anciently 
was  the  lowest  of  all  the  slaves,  became  the 
most  important  officer  in  the  house.  What  was 
at  first  only  a  low  and  contemptible  employment, 
became  a  difficult  and  important  art.  The  price 
of  a  cook,  says  Pliny,  was  rated  at  as  much  as 
would  formerly  have  sufficed  for  the  expense  of 


ANCIENT  HISTOttX. 


&29 


a  triumph.  No  mortal  was  so  highly  esteemed 
as  that  slave  who  was  the  best  skilled  in  the 
art  of  ruining  his  master. 

Horace  thus  reproaches  the  voluptuaries  of 
his  time: 

4 1  Vix  tanien  cripiam,  pfjsito,  pavone,"  £rc....Hor.  Sat.  2.  Lib.  3. 

“ - Yet  shall  I  ne’er  prevail. 

To  make  our  men  of  taste  a  pullet  choose, 

And  the  gay  peacock  with  its  train  refuse; 

For  the  rare  bird  at  mighty  price  is  sold. 

And  lo!  what  wonders  does  its  tail  unfold; 

But  can  those  whims  a  higher  gusto  raise, 

Unless  you  eat  the  plumage  that  you  praise? 

Or  do  its  beauties  when  ’tis  boil’d  remain? 

No;  ’tis  the  unequall’d  beauty  of  his  train 
Deludes  your  eye,  and  charms  you  to  the  feast; 

For  hens  and  peacocks  are  alike  in  taste.”... Francis'  Horace* 

Quintus  Horatius,  the  orator,  was  the  first 
who  taught  the  Romans  to  eat  peacocks,  at  a 
feast  whiMi  he  gave  when  he  was  created  au¬ 
gur.  They  became  so  much  in  fashion,  that 
they  were  thought  essentially  necessary  to  ev¬ 
ery  entertainment.  Hence  Cicero,  in  one  of  his 
letters,  tells  Psetus,  that  he  had  been  so  bold  as 
to  give  a  supv>er  to  Hirtius  without  a  peacock, 

CHAP.  CHI. 

Of  the  head-dresses  of  the  Homan  ladies . 

THE  Roman  ladies  wore  very  high  head 
dresses.  With  the  help  of  borrowed  hair,  they 
surrounded  the  head  with  so  many  tresses, 
knots,  and  curls,  disposed  in  different  stories 
and  towers,  that  *he  whole  formed  a  sort  of 
building.  Sometimes  they  gave  their  hair  a 
military  air,  the  form  of  a  helmet,  or  the  fig¬ 
ure  of  |  buckler. 

The  mitre  was  also  another  kind  of  head- 

TI 


230 


FLOWERS  OF 


dress.  It  was  the  same  to  the  women  as  the  hat 
to  the  men.  More  divided  than  the  mitre  we 
are  acquainted  with,  like  it,  it  had  two  pendants 
fastened  below  the  chin.  There  were  some  or¬ 
naments  for  the  head,  which  were  regarded  as 
a  mark  of  modesty  and  virtue.  One  of  these 
was  a  pretty  broad  ribband  with  which  the  wo¬ 
men  fillettcd  up  their  hair,  and  then  formed  it 
into  knots  behind.  There  were  some  also,  which 
were  peculiar  to  particular  families. 

Light  colored  hair  \yas  most  in  fashion.  Both 
men  and  women  dyed  it  to  make  the  color  more 
lively.  They  perfumed  it,  and  applied  essences 
to  give  it  lustre.  Sometimes  they  covered  it 
with  gold  dust,  to  make  it  still  more  brilliant. 
The  mode  came  from  Asia.  Josephus  says  that 
it  was  much  practised  among  the  Jews.  The 
emperors  Verus  and  Gallienus  followed  it.  The 
hair  of  Commodus,  according  to  Herodian,  was 
become  so  fair  and  shining,  that  when  be  was 
in  the  sun,  bis  head  appeared  all  on  fire. 

Dje  and  dust  were  the  only  means  in  use 
among  the  ancients  to  set  off  their  hair.  They 
knew  nothing  of  our  powder.  No  ancient  au¬ 
thors  mention  it.  The  fathers  of  the  church, 
who  reproached  the  women  with  all  the  various 
artifices  they  used  to  heighten  their  charms, 
take  no  notice  of  powder;  nor  is  it  spoke  of  in 
any  of  the  old  romances,  which  enter  into  such 
minute  details  with  regard  te  the  finery  of  both 
sexes.  We  find  nothing  of  it  in  the  old  portraits, 
though  the  painters  of  them  always  represented 
persons  as  they  were  cloathed  and  dressed. 

History  informs  us,  that  Margaret  de  Valois * 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


231 


who  was  mortified  with  having  very  black  harf, 
had  recourse  to  all  sorts  of  artifices  to  soften 
the  color.  If  powder  had  been  then  in  use,  she 
might  have  spared  herself  all  that  pains.  The 
first  of  the  French  writers,  who  have  spoken  of 
powder,  is  L'Etoile ,  in  his  journal  under  the 
year  1593.  He  relates,  that  nuns  were  seen 
walking  t lie  streets  of  Paris  powdered  and  cur¬ 
led.  From  that  time  powder  came  into  fashion 
in  France  by  degrees,  aijd  from  thence  passed 
into  the  other  countries  of  FiUrope. 

f 

CHAP.  CIV. 

Of  the  favorite  colors  of  cloths. 

ft-i.  . 

THE  common  color  of  cloths  was  white.  Tt 
was  also  the  most  honorable,  independent  of  the 
dignities  which  were  denoted  by  the  purple. 
When  the  ladies  began  to  wear  various  colors, 
they  chose  those  which  they  thought  became 
them  best.  It  was  a  precept  given  them  by  Ovid. 

“Try  every  one,  what  best  becomes  you  wear, 

Fov  no  complexion  all  alike  can  bear. 

It  fair  the  skin,  black  may  become  it  best, 

In  black  the  lovely  fair  Briseis  dress’d. 

If  brown  the  nymph,  let  her  be  cloth ’d  in  white, 

Andromeda  so  charm’d  the  wond’ring  sight.” 

The  same  poet  so  far  from  reducing  the 
whole  art  of  dying  to  the  color  of  purple, 
speaks  of  a  blue,  which  resembles  the  sky 
when  it  is  unclouded;  of  a  sea-green,  which  he 
believes  to  be  the  dress  of  the  nymphs;  of  the 
color  which  tinctures,  the  apparel  of  Aurora 
of  that  which  imitates  the  myrtle  of  Paphos; 
and,  in  short,  of  many  others,  as  numerous,  he 
says,  as  the  flowers  of  the  spring. 


.232 


JfcLOYTRRS  Oi 


CHAP.  CY. 

Of  the  Roman  calendar . 

THE  Romans  reckoned  the  days  of  their 
rnonthsiiy  Kalends,  Nones,  and  Ides.  Romu¬ 
lus  always  began  his  months  upon  the  first  day 
of  the  moon,  and  was  followed  in  this  by  the 
author  of  the  other  accounts,  to  avoid  an  alter¬ 
ation  in  the  immoveable  feasts;  therefore  every 
new  moon  one  of  the  inferior  priests  used  to  as¬ 
semble  the  people  in  the  eapitol,  and  call  over 
as  many  days  as  there  were  between  that  and 
the  Nones.  From  this  custom,  the  first  of  these 
davs  had  the  name  of  Calendre. 

w 

The  Nones  were  so  called,  because  they 
reckoned  nine  days  from  the  Ides. 

The  ides  were  generally  about  I  be  middle 
of  the  month,  and  the  word  is  derived  from 
iduare,  an  obsolete  verb,  signifying  to  divide. 

The  Calends  were  always  fixed  to  the  first 
of  every  month;  but  the  Nones  and  the  Ides, 
in  four  months,  were  on  different  days  from 
the  other  eight.  For  March,  May,  July,  and 
October,  had  six  Nones  each,  the  other  months 
only  four.  Therefore,  in  the  four  first,  the 
Nones  were  the  seventh,  and  the  ides  the  fif¬ 
teenth;  in  the  other  months,  the  Nones  were 
the  fifth,  and  the  Ides  the  thirteenth. 

CHAP.  CYL 

On  the  invention  of  Water- Clocks. 

THE  Romans  were  near  460  years,  without 
knowing  any  other  division  of  the  day;  than 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


233 


morning,  noon,  and  night.  The  first  instru¬ 
ment  which  they  had  ta  divide  the  hours,  was 
a  sun-dial,  brought  from  Sicily,  after  the  tak¬ 
ing  of  Catana,  by  Marcus  Valerius  Messala,  in 
the  year  of  Home  477 jw 


Although  this  dial,  d  rawn  for  the  meridian 
of  Catana,  which  was  different  from  that  of 
Rome,  could  not  show  the  hours  exactly;  yet, 
imperfect  as  it  was,  the  Romans  conformed  to 
it  for  the  space  of  99  years,  till  Quintus  Mar¬ 
cus  Pliilippus,  who  was  censor  with  Paulus 
iEmiiius,  gave  them  another  more  exact. 
This,  of  all  the  acts  of  his  censorship,  was  that 
which  obtained  him  the  greatest  applause. 

Scipio  Nasica,  five  years  after,  in  the  year 
of  Rome  595,  first  brought  into  use,  and  placed 
under  cover,  a  water  clock,  which  shewed  tiie 
hours  equally  by  day  and  night. 

To  form  an  idea  of  these  clocks,  wc  may 
conceive  a  pretty  large  bason  filled  with  water, 
which  by  a  little  hole  contrived  in  the  bottom, 
emptied  itself  into  another  vessel,  of  nearly  the 
same  capacity,  in  tiie  space  of  twelve  hours; 
and  where  the  water  rising  gradually,  brought 
up  perpendicularly  a  hit  of  cork,  or  the  figure 
of  a  genius  pointing  to  the  hours,  which  were 
marked  one  above  another,  on  columns  of  pilas¬ 
ters. 

The  Romans  were  ignorant  of  the  use  of 
clocks  with  wheels.  We  are  even  uncertain  of 
the  time  and  the  author  of  that  invention.  The 
present  which  was  made  to  Charlemagne  of  a 
striking  clock,  was  looked  upon  as  a  wonder, 
J&giiiard  says,  that  it  was  a  water-clock,  which 


FiOWFRS  OF 


234 

marked  the  hours  by  the  fall  of  some  balls  of 
metal  /upon  a  hell,  and  by  some  figures  of  men, 
which)  opened  and  shut  certain  doors  contrived- 
in  the  clock,  according  to  the  number  of  hours> 

CHAP.  CVIH 

Of  the  Homan  Money. 

TllB  quadrans  was  the  smallest  brass  coin., 
of  the  same  value  as  our  farthing.  The  es,  or 
as,  was  equal  to  one  penny  English.  The  obo- 
lus  was  equal  in  valu6  to  one  English  penny. 
The  eentussis  Avas  the  greatest  brass  coin, 
equal  to  six  shillings  and  three  pence  of  our 
money. 

The  sastertius  was  the  least  silver  coin, 
equal  to  one  penny  and  three  farthings  English. 
The  denarius  was  the  chief  silver  coin  among 
the  Romans,  value  seven  pence  three  farthings. 
The  drachma  was  in  use  among  the  Romans, 
though  a  Greek  coin,  value  the  same  as  the 
denarius.  The  sestertium  contained  a  thou¬ 
sand  sestertii;  value  about  eight  pounds  one 
shilling  and  five  pence  halfpenny,  The  libra, 
or  pound,  consisted  of  twelve  ounces  of  silver, 
or  ninety-six  drachmas  or  denarii;  value  three 
pounds  English  money.  The  mino  was  origi¬ 
nally  a  Greek  coin  of  the  same  value.  The 
talent  contained  twenty-four  sestertia,  and  six 
thousand  denarii;  value  187  pounds  ten  shil¬ 
lings. 

The  aureus  denarius  was  the  most  remarka¬ 
ble  gold  coin  among  the  Romans,  and  was 
worth  more  than  twenty  shillings  English. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


23a 


The  Romans  had  no  other  money  but  brass, 
till  the  war  with  Pyrrhus,  king  of  Epirus,  five 
years  before  the  Carthaginian  war,  when  silver 
was  first  coined. 

CHAP.  CVIII. 

Of  Eloquence ,  and  the  Origin  of  the  Profession 
of  Advocates  among  the  Romans . 

THE  art  of  speaking  in  public  soon  became 
part  of  the  education  of  youth,  and  was  cultiva¬ 
ted  even  by  persons  of  more  advanced  years. 
After  Rome  had  made  choice  of  the  republican 
constitution,  eloquence  seemed  absolutely  ne¬ 
cessary.  For,  without  the  talent  of  speaking, 
how  was  it  possible  for  them  to  share  in  the 
government,  propose  laws,  deliberate  upon  the 
interests  of  the  commonwealth,  and  obtain  of¬ 
fices?  In  consequence  of  this,  they  imitated  the 
Greeks,  in  accustoming  themselves  to  elo¬ 
quence  from  their  earliest  youth;  and  the  more 
powerful  the  commonwealth  became,  the  more 
was  that  art  cultivated. 

But  it  did  not  attain  to  its  highest  perfection 
till  after  a  very  considerable  time,  during 
which  the  necessity  and  habit  of  speaking  in 
public  served  them  instead  of  art.  It  was  not 
till  after  their  commerce  with  the  Greeks, 
that,  charmed  with  the  beauty  of  the  dis¬ 
courses  of  their  orators,  they  were  desirous  of 
learning  the  rules  of  eloquence,  and  for  that 
purpose  called  in  masters  from  Greece. 

Under  these  masters*  those  great  orators 


236 


FLOWERS  OF 


were  formed,  who  shewed  that  the  Romans 
were  capable  of  equalling  the  Greeks  in  elo¬ 
quence.  The  taste  for  it  was  become  so  gene¬ 
ral,  towards  the  end  of  Cicero’s  life,  that  even 
the  fair  sex  conceived  it  for  their  glory. 

History  gives  us  an  example  of  this  in  the 
person  of  Hortensia,  daughter  of  the  famous 
Qrator  Hortensius.  The  discourse  is  still  ex¬ 
tant,  which  she  pronounced  for  exempting  the 
Roman  ladies  from  the  tax,  which  the  trium¬ 
viri  had  laid  upon  fourteen  hundred  of  them, 
to  raise  troops  against  Brutus  and  Cassius. 

Besides  this  obligation  to  speak  in  public 
upon  the  affairs  of  the  state,  which  were  either 
transacted  in  the  senate  or  the  assembly  of  the 
people,  there  vt'as  one  peculiar  to  those  whom 
the  people  had  chosen  for  their  patrons,  who 
in  that  quality  were  obliged  to  defend  their  cli¬ 
ents,  and  to  plead  themselves,  or  cause  their 
friends  to  plead  for  them,  without  any  other 
advantage,  except  the  glory  of  supporting  the 
interests  of  those  who  were  under  their  protec** 
lion. 

But  as  soon  as  the  emperors  had  deprived 
the  people  of  the  right  of  chusing  their  magis¬ 
trates,  and  giving  their  suffrages  in  trials  and 
public  deliberations,  patrons  and  clients  be¬ 
coming  mutually  useless,  subsisted  no  longer. 
Individuals  having  patrons  no  longer  to  defend 
their  causes,  entrusted  them  to  those  citizens 
whom  they  judged  most  eloquent,  and  best 
versed  in  the  laws. 

Eloquence,  till  then  disinterested,  and  actu- 
atedsolely  by  the  love  of  glory  and  public  good. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


became,  in  consequence  of  venality,  a  source 
of  mean  avidity,  and  sordid  lucre.  Such  was 
the  rise  of  the  profession  of  advocates.  Juve¬ 
nal,  in  his  seventh  satire,  ridicules  those  of  his 
time,  who  affected  to  appear  in  public  in  litters, 
drest  magnificently,  and  with  a  great  train,  and 
who  carried  their  ostentation  so  far,  as  to  wear 
gems  of  great  value  on  their  fingers  at  the  bar, 
that  they  might  be  considered  as  extremely 
rich,  and  make  their  employers  pay  the  dearer 
for  their  service. 

• - “ Purpura  vendit 

Causidicum,  vendunt  < imethyntima ,  &c. 

“Nor  can  I  wonder  at  such  tricks  as  these; 

The  purple  garments  raise  the  lawyer’s  fees, 

And  sell  him  dearer  to  the  fool  that  buys; 

High  pomp  and  state  are  useful  properties. 

The  luxury  of  Rome  will  know  no  end; 

For  still  the  less  we  have  the  more  we  spend; 

Trust  eloquence  to  shew  our  parts  and  breeding! 

Not  Tully  now  could  get  ten  groats  by  pleading. 

Unless  the  diamond  glittered  on  his  hand: 

Wealth’s  ail  the  rhet’ric  clients  understand. 

Without  large  equipage  and  loud  expense. 

The  prince  of  orators  would  scarce  speak  sense. 

Paulus,  who  with  magnificence  did  plead. 

Grew  rich,  while  letter’d  Gallusbegg’d  his  bread, 

Who  to  poor  Basilus  his  cause  would  trust, 

Tho’  ne’er  so  full  of  pity,  ne’er  so  just? 

His  clients,  unregarded,  claim  their  due, 

For  eloquence  in  rags  was  never  tru e.”.,.y,Dryden, 

When  the  conquests  of  the  Roman  people 
had  opened  their  way  into  Greece,  they  sent 
their  youth  to  Athens  to  study  eloquence  and 
Hie  Greek  tongue,  which  became  the  language 
of  the  sciences  among  the  Romans,  because 
they  had  them  from  the  Greeks.  There  were 
few  persons,  except  the  lowest  of  the  people, 
who  were  not  acquainted  with  the  Greek  poets, 
and  particularly  Homer,  whose  finest  passages 
they  took  pleasure  in  learning,  in  order  to  be 
able  to  quote  them  when  occasion  required. 


238 


FXOWERS  OF 


This  taste  prevailed  long  after  the  twelve  Cse- 
sars;  in  whose  time  it  was  much  in  fashion; 
the  Greek  tongue  being  spoke  so  commonly 
then  at  Rome,  that  it  was  familiar  even  to  the 
ladies. 

"Qucedam  parva  quidem ,  sed  nan  to  tolerandn  mortis 
Nam  quid  rancidius ,”  ire . Juv.  Sat.  6. 

“Some  faults,  though  small,  intolerable  grow, 

For  what  so  nauseous  and  affected  too, 

As  those  who  think  they  due  perfection  want, 

AVho  have  not  learnt  to  lisp  the  Grecian  cant? 

In  Greece  their  whole  accomplishments  they  seek, 

Their  fashion,  breeding,  language,  must  be  Greek; 

But  raw  in  all  that  does  to  Rome  belong, 

They  scorn  to  cultivate  their  mother  tongue. 

In  Greek  they  flatter,  all  their  fears  they  speak} 

Tell  all  their  secrets,— nay,— they  scold  in  Greek: 

Ev’n  in  the  seat  of  love  they  use  that  tongue; 

Such  affectations  may  become  the  young: 

But  thou,  old  hag,  of  three  score  years  and  three, 

£s  shewing  of  thy  parts  in  Greek  for  thee?” 


€HAP.  OX. 

Of  Pearls ,  Diamonds,  Bings,  and  Seals. 

AMONG  the  ancients,  pearls  were  much 
more  esteemed  than  they  are  at  present:  and 
diamonds  were  very  scarce,  not  becoming  com¬ 
mon  till  after  the  commerce  with  the  Indies. 
But  as  to  colored  stones  they  were  not  scarce, 
and  they  knewr  how  to  cut  them  perfectly  well. 
The  Roman  ladies  wore  necklaces  and  brace¬ 
lets  not  only  of  pearls,  hut  of  precious  stones. 
The  antique  statue  of  Lueilla,  the  wife  of  Lu¬ 
cius  Terns,  the  colleague  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 
represents  her  with  bracelets  of  three  rows. 
They  had  also  another  kind  of  bracelet,  called 
spinther,  which  they  wore  near  the  elbowr  on 
the  left  arm.  During  a  long  series  of  time, 
under  the  commonwealth,  the  freed  men  onh 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


239 


and  their  children  had  their  ears  pierced,  to 
distinguish  them  from  those  horn  of  free  pa¬ 
rents.  But  when  luxury  had  gained  ground, 
young  people  of  quality,  and  even  men,  caused 
their  ears  to  he  pierced,  in  order  to  wear  pen¬ 
dents  and  pearls  in  them,  like  the  women.  It 
is  observed  that  Caesar,  before  he  obtained  the 
empire,  did  this  fashion  great  honor,  which 
prevailed  till  Alexander  Servius  prohibited  the 
use  of  it  to  men.  As  to  jewels,  the  Roman  la¬ 
dies  were  so  fond  of  them  for  a  time,  that  Lol- 
lia  Paulina,  whom  Agrippina  caused  to  he  put 
to  death,  for  having  attempted  to  marry  the 
emperor  Claudius  in  competition  with  her,  was 
possessed  of  them  to  the  amount  of  almost  an 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds. 

Luxury  at  length  became  so  general,  that 
the  wives  of  the  common  people  wore  chains 
of  silver  about  their  feet.  This  taste  for  jew- 
els  produced  another  for  rings,  which  both  men 
and  women  wore.  At  first  they  had  only  rings 
of  gold  or  iron,  according  to  the  difference  of 
rank,  which  served  them  as  seals,  and  which 
they  wore  on  the  fourth  finger.  They  after¬ 
wards  added  a  stone  finely  engraved,  hy  way  of 
seal;  and  when  luxury  had  first  taken  place  of 
this  first  simplicity,  the  use  of  gems  and  pre¬ 
cious  stones  was  introduced.  They  wore  them 
on  the  fore-finger  by  way  of  ornament;  after¬ 
wards  they  added  another  on  the  little  finger, 
so  that  all  the  fingers  had  them  except  the  mid¬ 
dle  one.  At  length,  through  a  refinement  of 
luxury,  they  used  to  change  them  according  to 
the  seasons,  and  had  light  rings  in  summer, 


240 


FLOWERS  OF 


and  heavy  ones,  set  with  large  stones,  for  win¬ 
ter. 

- - - - - — “ Cum  verna  Canopi 

Crispinus ,  Tyrias  humero  revocante  laccrnai 
Ventilet  cetivum  digitis  fundantibus  aurum , 

Nec  suffer e  queat  majoris  pondera  gemma;. 

Difficile  est  Satiram  non  scribere . Juv.  Sat.  1. 

“When  I  behokl  the  spawn  of  conquer’d  Nile, 

Crispinus,  both  in  birth  and  manners  vile. 

Facing  in  pomp,  with  cloke  of  Tyrian  dye 
Chang'd  oft  a  day  for  needless  luxury; 

And  finding  oft  occasion  to  be  fann’d, 

Ambitious  to  produce  his  lady  hand; 

Charg’d  with  light  summer  rings  his  fingers  sweat, 

Unable  to  support  a  gem  of  weight: 

Such  fulsome  objects  meeting  every  where 
Tis  hard  to  write,  but  harder  to  forbear. ”......Drydev. 


chap.  cx. 


Of  the  Houses  of  the  Romans l 

WHEN  the  commonwealth  was  at  the  height 
of  its  greatness,  the  houses  of  the  principal 
persons  were  laid  out  in  such  a  manner,  that 
before  the  gate  there  was  a  kind  of  portico 
supported  by  pillars,  and  intended  to  shelter 
the  clients  from  the  weather,  who  came  in  the 
morning  to  pay  their  court  to  their  patron.  At 
the  entrance  of  the  house  was  a  large  hall,  or 
rather  gallery,  adorned  with  the  statues  in 
wax,  silver,  or  marble,  of  the  ancestors  of  the 
family,  with  a  short  account  of  their  greatest 
actions. 

“ Tota  licet  veteres  exornent  nftdique  ccrce 
Atria ,  nobilitas  sola  est  atque  unica  virtue.... ..Juv.  Sat.  8. 

“Long  galleries  of  ancestors,  and  all 
The  follies  which  ill-grace  a  country  hall. 

Challenge  no  wonder  or  esteem  from  me, 

Virtue  alone  is  true  nobility . Stepney. 

All  the  houses  were  three  stories  high.  It 
is  not  known  how  their  chimnies  were  made, 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


241 


nop  whether  they  had  any  except  in  their  kitch¬ 
ens.  It  appears*  however,  that  they  seldom 
had  any  in  their  apartments;  for  to  supply  the 
want  of  them  they  had  portable  furnaces,  or 
tire  pans,  in  which  they  burnt  a  certain  wood, 
rubbed  with  the  dregs  of  olives,  after  the  oil 
was  pressed  out  of  them,  to  prevent  it  from 
smoaking.  Seneca  says,  that  in  his  time,  cer¬ 
tain  pipes  were  invented,  which  being  fixed  in 
the  walls,  warmed  the  chambers  equally  to  the 
upper  story,  by  means  of  fires  made  in  fur¬ 
naces,  disposed  along  the  bottom  of  the  walls. 

We  find  that  during  summer,  to  cool  the 
rooms,  they  also  made  use  of  pipes,  which  rose 
from  vaults,  from  whence  they  drew  the  cool 
air,  which  they  dispersed  in  its  course  into  the 
apartments. 

W  e  are  still  in  ignorance  as  to  what  they 
used  in  their  windows,  to  admit  the  light  into 
their  rooms,  and  to  keep  out  the  injuries  of  the 
weather.  It  was  perhaps  linen-cloth,  or  some 
stuff  equivalent  to  it.  For  it  is  certain,  though 
glass  was  not  unknown  to  them,  (for  they  had 
drinking  vessels  of  it)  that  they  did  not  use  it, 
like  us,  for  windows.  Nero  employed  for  that 
purpose  a  certain  transparent  stone,  like  ala¬ 
baster,  cut  in  squares,  through  which  the  light 
appeared.  And  the  historian  Josephus  speaks 
of  a  different  kind  of  substance  applied  for  that 
use,  but  without  explaining  himself  clearly. 
He  tells  us  that  the  emperor  Caligula,  giving 
audience  to  Philo,  ambassador  from  the  Jews 
at  Alexandria,  in  a  gallery  of  one  of  his  pa¬ 
laces  near  Home,  ordered  the  windows  to  be 

X 


242 


vlowehs  er 


shut,  on  account  of  the  wind  that  incommoded 
them.  He  adds,  that  those  windows,  which 
kept  out  the  wind,  and  let  in  only  the  light, 
were  so  clear  and  shining,  that  they  might 
have  been  taken  for  rock-crystal.  He  would 
not  have  had  occasion  to  have  made  so  loose 
and  indeterminate  a  description,  if  they  had 
been  glass,  which  was  so  well  known  by  the 
vessels  made  of  it.  It  was  perhaps  a  kind  of 
stone,  which  Pliny  says,  was  common  in  Spaing 
could  be  split  into  leaves  like  slate,  antf  was  as 
transparent  as  glass.  We  do  not  know  whether 
it  was  brittle;  but  it  is  certain  that  it  admit¬ 
ted  the  rays  of  light,  and  might  be  seen 
through.  There  are,  however,  many  things  of 
antiquity,  of  which  we  have  but  imperfect  no¬ 
tions. 


CHAP.  CXI. 

Of  the  Roman  Baths. 

ALL  the  rich  citizens  of  Home  had  baths  in 
their  houses,  which  were  always  placed  near 
the  dining-rooms,  because  it  was  the  custom  to 
bathe  before  they  sat  down  to  table.  ,  For  from 
the  time  that  the  frequent  use  of  baths  was 
brought  from  Greece  and  Asia  to  Rome,  the 
Homans  had  a  great  taste  for  them,  and  thought 
them  as  essential  to  health  as  their  daily  food. 
This  obliged  them  to  erect  public  baths,  which 
multiplied  to  such  a  degree,  that  under  the  em¬ 
perors  they  amounted  to  eight  hundred.  Agrip- 
pa  only,  in  the  reign  of  Augustus,  caused  above 
an  hundred  to  be  built. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


243 


They ‘were  usually  laid  out  in  different  apart¬ 
ments,  which  formed  different  baths,  of  which 
the  two  first  were  for  the  common  people,  who 
paid  scarce  half  a  farthing  per  head  for  the 
use  of  them,  and  children  were  admitted  gratis. 

- - - “Dum  tu  quadrante  lavatum 

Rex  ibis  ...Hov  Lib.  1  Sat.  3. 

“Whilst  fora  farthing  bath’d,  you  strut  a  king.” 

As  to  others,  the  price  was  raised  in  propor¬ 
tion  to  the  manner  in  which  they  were  served. 
There  were  people  to  do  all  necessary  offices. 
In  each  apartment  were  hot,  warm  and  cold 
baths,  so  that  every  one  might  chuse.  There 
were  chambers  on  the  sides  for  undressing.  To 
clean  the  skin,  they  made  use  of  a  certain  in¬ 
strument,  which  they  called  stirgil,  made  of 
silver,  copper  or  ivory,  bent  like  a  scythe; 
and  afterwards  to  smooth  it,  they  rubbed  it 
with  a  pummice-stonc.  They  next  poured 
upon  it  odoriferous  oils,  prepared  for  that  pur¬ 
pose. 

In  these  baths  were  stoves.  The  authors  of 
those  times  observed  that  every  thing  which 
passed  in  the  city,  was  related  in  the  baths,  and 
even  the  works  of  wit  were  first  read  there. 

• - "■In  medio  qui 

Scripta  foro  resonent  sunt  multi,  quique  lavar.tcs Hor.  I.ib.  1  Sat.  4n 

“The  forum  rings  with  verse,  the  baths  resound; 

Crowds  of  repeating  bards  in  both  are  found.” 

At  the  first  establishment  ot  public  baths  at 
home,  there  were  distinct  ones  for  the  men 
and  women;  but  they  insensibly  became  com¬ 
mon,  with  this  difference  only,  that  the  men 
were  served  by  men,  and  the  women  by  women. 


■244 


pXOWERS  OP 


The  emperor  Adrian  perceiving  how  indecent 
this  was,  ordered  different  baths  for  each  sex. 

At  length,  the  public  baths  were  so  common, 
and  the  use  of  them  so  general,  that  Pliny  ob¬ 
serves  there  were  three  in  the  village  near  his 
country-house.  This  amazing  number  of  pub* 
Me  baths,  of  which  some  were  magnificent 
structures,  served  no  less  for  the  convenience 
than  embellishment  of  that  great  city. 

The  most  superb  baths,  however,  were  still 
far  inferior  in  beauty  and  extent,  to  those  called 
Thermo?,  which  were  also  public  baths,  but 
almost  all  built  by  the  emperors;  in  which 
their  principal  view  seems  to  have  been  to  dis¬ 
play  their  magnificence,  having  spared  nothing 
that  might  give  an  high  idea  of  it.  They  were 
spacious  and  magnificent  edifices  adorned  with 
porticos  and  galleries  of  extraordinary  extent, 
and  superb  architecture,  which  contained  not 
only  baths,  but  every  thing  else  that  could  ren¬ 
der  them  agreeable.  There  were  places  in 
them  allotted  for  the  exercises  of  the  body; 
such  as  leaping,  w  restling,  throwing  the  discus , 
foot-ball,  and  another  game  with  a  ball,  which 
came  near  enough  to  what  is  called  long  or 
Welch  tennis.  For  the  Romans,  who  in  early 
times  cultivated  the  exercises  of  the  body,  only 
as  they  conduced  to  render  them  more  warlike, 
cultivated  them  in  process  of  time,  as  condu¬ 
cive  to  health.  Wrestling  seemed  very  proper 
for  rendering  the  body  more  active  and  vigo¬ 
rous,  and  thereby  less  subject  to  the  infirmi¬ 
ties  which  arise  from  too  much  indolence  and 
inaction.  It  was  with  this  vi^w  that  Augustus 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


245 

often  exercised  himself  in  playing  at  foot-bail, 
and  that  kind  of  tennis,  which  we  have  before 
mentioned. 

Besides  these  places  of  exercise,  there  were 
others  planted  with  trees,  where  people  walked 
in  summer.  The  baths  in  them  were  of  all 
kinds,  even  of  sea-water,  to  which  peculiar  vir¬ 
tues  were  ascribed.  There  were  stoves  also  in 
4-lic  Thermce,  as  in  the  other  public  baths.  They 
were  distributed  into  different  apartments,  con¬ 
sisting  of  halls  of  extraordinary  extent,  the 
lofty  rooms  of  which  were  supported  by  pillars 
of  the  most  exquisite  marble.  The  pavement 
was  also  marble;  and  the  walls  were  covered 
with  Mosaic  work,  and  adorned  with  gilding 
and  paintings  of  great  value.  But  their  prin¬ 
cipal  ornament  was  the  prodigious  number  of 
marble  statues,  figures,  and  vases  of  the  best 
masters. 

The  emperors  took  pleasure  in  collecting  in 
these  places  most  of  the  excellent  pieces  of 
painting  and  sculpture,  which  the  Romans  had 
brought  to  Home  from  the  principal  pities  of 
Greece  and  Asia.  The  same  magnificence  ex¬ 
tended  to  all  the  rest  of  those  edifices;  for  even 
the  place  in  which  they  kept  the  perfumes, 
odoriferous  oils,  essences,  and  drugs, with  which 
those  who  had  bathed  w  ere  rubbed,  was  no  less 
adorned.  The  vases,  in  which  they  were  pre¬ 
served,  were  either  of  marble,  or  some  curious 
matter. 

The  vessels  wherein  people  bathed,  were  of 
fine  marble,  oriental  granite  or  porphyry, 

X  2 


FLOWERS  OE 


246 

though  of  an  uncommon  size,  as  may  be  judged 
from  such  as  have  been  found  in  the  ruins  of  those 
buildings,  most  of  which  serve  at  this  day  for 
the  public  fountains  at  Rome.  Thus  there  is 
no  room  for  thinking,  that  the  authors  who 
have  spoken  of  the  magnificence  of  the  Thermo? , 
intended  to  impose. 

Besides  such  large  bathing  vessels,  there 
were  great  basons  full  of  water  for  such  as  de¬ 
sired  to  exercise  themselves  in  swimming;  so 
that  nothing  was  wanting  which  could  contri¬ 
bute  either  to  pleasure  or  amusement. 


CHAP.  CXII. 

Of  the  Couches,  or  Beds,  used  at  the  Roman 

Tables . 

IN  early  times,  when  simplicity  prevailed, 
the  Romans  sat  at  their  meals  upon  benches  or 
seats  round  the  table.  But  after  their  com¬ 
merce  with  the  Greeks  and  Asiatics,  whom 
they  piqued  themselves  upon  imitating,  they 
introduced,  instead  of  chairs  or  stools,  the  use 
of  couches  or  beds,  round  the  table.  They 
were  generally  of  a  round  form.  One  side  was 
always  left  open  to  receive  the  service  in  the 
middle;  and  the  beds  were  placed,  one  at  the 
head,  and  two  on  each  side,  there  being  only 
three  at  each  table.  On  each  of  the  greatest 
couches  there  was  room  only  for  four  persons; 
for  they  did  not  approve  of  having  more  than 
twelve  at  the  same  table.  The  common 
couches  were  only  for  three;  and  the  numbers 


ANCIENT  HISTORY 


247 


(hat  pleased  them  most  were  nine,  seven  or 
three,  having  a  particular  prejudice  for  odd 
numbers. 

'‘Tertia  ne  vacuo  cessaret  culritra  lecto, 

Una  simus  oz£.”...Juv.  Sat.  5. 

“That  the  third  bolster  may  not  want  a  guest. 

Sup  with  me,  says  his  lordship.”... .Dryden. 

• 

“ Summits  ego ,  etpropc  me  Viscus  Thurinus &c. 

Hor.  Lib.  2.  Sat.  i 

“Sir,  I  sat  first;  and  stay,  I  think  ’twas  so, 

Thurinus  next,  Vibidius  sat  below, 

Next  Balatro;  below  him  Porcius  lies* 

AH  uninvited;  but  as  lords  are  wont, 

Maecenas  brought  them  all  on  his  account.”... .Creech* 

Horace  in  one  of  his  Satires,  informs  us, 
that  a  canopy  was  placed  over  the  table. 

“ Interea  suspensa  graves  aulcea  ruinas . 

In patinam  fecere.”.... Hor.  Lib.  2.  Sat.  8. 

“But  whilst  he  talk’d  and  whilst  he  prais’d  the  fish, 

Down  came  the  canopy  into  the  dish.”....Crm7*. 

Though  the  example  of  the  Asiatics  had  not 
a  little  contributed  to  introduce  among  the  Ho- 
mans  this  lolling  posture  at  table,  it  is  however, 
also  ascribed  to  the  custom  ot*  bathing  imme¬ 
diately  before  eating;  because,  on  quitting  the 
bath,  the  body  having  occasion  for  repose,  they 
threw  themselves  upon  beds,  which  they  found 
too  comfortable  to  quit,  when  it  was  necessa¬ 
ry  to  eat.  For  the  guests  bathed  at  the  per¬ 
son’s  house  who  invited  to  supper;  and  it  was 
for  this  reason,  that  it  was  always  observed, 
in  building  houses,  to  place  the  apartment  of 
the  baths  near  the  room  in  which  the  company 
sflpped.  The  beds  for  the  table  were  covered 
with  purple,  and  other  rich  stuffs.  They  were 
low  and  without  backs,  differing  in  those  res¬ 
pects,  from  the  beds  where  they  passed  the  night* 
and  not  much  unlike  our  settees. 


24  S 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  CXIIL 

Of  the  Roman  Entertainments. 

BEFORE  supper,  the  guests  were  always 
presented  with  an  exact  and  circumstantial  list 
of  the  courses,  and  all  the  dishes  of  which  the 
feast  was  composed.  Before  they  began  to 
eat,  they  threw  dice,  in  order  by  way  of  diver¬ 
sion,  to  decide  who  should  be  king  of  the  feast. 
He  was  obeyed  during  the  whole  entertainment, 
and  regulated  the  number  of  healths  that  were 
drank. 

“ Jam  te  premet  nox,  fabulceque  manes 
Et  domus  exilis  Plutonia:  quo  simul  mearis 
Nec  regna  vini  sortire  tails. ...Hor.  Lib.  1.  Od.4 

“ - The  grim  conqueror  death, 

Advances  swift  to  stop  thy  breath; 

And  once  depriv’d  of  light, 

We’re  wrapt  in  rrists  of  endless  night: 

Then  no  more  shall  mirth  and  wine 
Our  loves  and  wit  refine.  ”..rCrecck. 

The  guests  were  likewise  presented  with 
wreaths  of  flowers  and  ivy,  to  which  was  as¬ 
cribed  the  property  of  preventing  the  effects  of 
the  fumes  of  wine,  by  their  coolness.  After 
having  rubbed  their  hair  with  odoriferous  es¬ 
sences,  they  put  those  crowns  upon  their  heads, 
and  wore  them  during  the  entertainment.  Some 
time  before  it  ended,  which  was  when  the 
healths  began  to  go  very  briskly  round,  the 
master  of  the  house  caused  a  great  cup,  richer 
and  more  beautiful  than  the  rest,  to  be  brought, 
which  was  therefore  called  cuppa  magistra ,  the 
principal  cup,  out  of  which  the  company  drank 
the  healths  of  those  they  loved.  If  it  was  a 
mistress,  they  often,  by  way  of  gallantry,  obli- 


ANCIENT  HISTOK*. 


24  9 

ged  the  lover  to  drink  as  many  times  as  there 
were  letters  in  her  name. 

“ Post  hoc  ludas  erat  cuppa potare  magistra.,,....Hor»  Lib*  2.  Sat.  2. 

“The  next  sport  was  before  the  feast  broke  up, 

To  drink  the  master-bowl,  the  peremptory  cup.” 

Their  supper  usually  c  onsisted  of  three  cour¬ 
ses;  but  sometimes  from  an  excess  of  magnifi¬ 
cence,  and  a  desire  to  entertain,  they  were  aug¬ 
mented  to  seven.  The  first  was  of  sallads,  let¬ 
tuces,  and  olives;  which,  with  oysters  of  the 
lake  of  Lucrinus,  so  famous  for  that  shell  fish, 
and  other  things  of  a  like  nature,  in  order  to 
excite  the  appetite  were  served  up.  The  se¬ 
cond  was  composed  of  roast  meats,  and  the 
most  substantial  dishes,  amongst  which  dishes 
of  fish  were  always  intermixed,  of  which  they 
were  such  great  lovers,  that  without  them  they 
would  not  have  thought  themselves  well  enter¬ 
tained.  As  for  the  third  service,  it  was  com¬ 
posed  of  fruits  and  pastry. 

It  was  not  till  under  the  last  emperors  that 
the  Romans  began  to  use  table  cloths,  which 
were  at  first  striped  with  purple,  and  even  with 
gold. — When  they  went  to  eat  at  the  houses  of 
others,  they  caused  a  napkin  to  be  brought, 
which  when  they  returned,  served  for  the  do¬ 
mestics  to  carry  home  some  pieces  of  the  sup¬ 
per.  They  might  even  send  some  of  it  to  any 
of  their  friends,  without  its  being  thought  ex¬ 
traordinary. 

A  guest  had  also  the  liberty  of  bringing  a 
friend  with  him;  and  this  supernumerary  was 
called  a  shadow ,  in  allusion  to  the  shadow 
which  follows  the  body;  as  those  who  came  of 
themselves  without  being  invited,  or  brought 


250 


FLOWERS  OF 


by  some  of  the  guests,  were  called  flies,  allud¬ 
ing  in  like  manner  to  those  troublesome  insects. 

CIIAP.  CXIV. 

Of  Games  of  Chance  and  Lotteries. 

GAM  INC  was  not  so  common  amongst  the 
Romans  as  with  us.  There  were  even  laws 
that  prohibited  games  of  chance;  and  these  pro¬ 
hibitions  were  pretty  well  observed,  as  long  as 
the  commonwealth  subsisted. 

- “ Nescit  equo  rudis,”  &c  ...Hor.  Lib.  3.  Od.  24. 

“Now  to  the  noble  youth  ’tis  too  much  pain, 

The  steed’9  impetuous  fire  to  vein; 

To  risque  the  manly  dangers  of  the  chace: 

But  softer  arts  of  these  take  place; 

To  play  at  billiards  with  sir  Courtley  Nice, 

And  curse  the  barb’rous  laws  that  would  abolish  dice.”...Francw. 

But  the  games  of  chance  being  the  taste  of 
several  emperors,  they  got  the  better  of  the 
laws,  and  became  so  common,  that  Juvenal  de¬ 
claims  strongly,  in  his  satires,  against  those 
who  ruined  themselves  by  them. 

- “ Alea  quando 

Hos  animos ?  neque  enim  loculis  comitantibus  itur 
Ad  casum  tabulae,  posita  sed  luditur  area . 

Plcelia  quanta  illic  dlspcnsatore  videbis 

Armigero!  simplex  ne furor  sestertia  centum 

Perdere ;  et  horrenti  tunicam  non  rederc  servo.”.... Juv.  Sat.  1. 

“When  were  the  dice  with  irmre  profusion  thrown? 

The  well-fiird  fobs  not  emptied  now  alone, 

But  gamesters  for  whole  patrimonies  play: 

The  steward  brings  the  deeds  which  must  convey, 

The  lost  estate.  What  more  than  madness  reigns, 

When  one  short  sitting  many  hundreds  drains, 

And  not  enough  is  left  him  to  supply 
Board-wages  or  a  footman’s  livery .”.... Dryden. 

The  games  of  chance  of  the  Romans,  of 
which  the  knowledge  lias  come  down  to  us, 
were  played  with  a  kind  of  dice.  In  that  cal¬ 
led  Talus ,  they  threw  four  of  these  dice  at  once, 
and  when  three  sixes  came  up,  the  cast  was 


ANCIENT  HISTORY*  25 1 

called  Venus,  which  swept  all  the  money  staked. 
Tessera  was  played  only  with  three  dice  upon  a 
table  marked  like  a  chequer;  and  that  of  even 
and  odd  was  much  used  amongst  them.  They 
had  also  another  game,  which  they  called  La- 
trunc-uU ,  that  did  not  depend  upon  chance,  hut 
upon  the  skill  of  the  gamesters.  They  did  not 
use  dice  in  it,  hut  certain  figures  which  they 
disposed  upon  a  chequer,  as  is  done  at  chess, 
which  it  very  much  resembled. 

These  were  their  domestic  games.  But  of¬ 
ten,  when  the  emperors  gave  entertainments, 
before  they  began,  by  way  of  amusement,  they 
caused  a  lotterv  to  be  drawn,  of  w  hich  all  the 
tickets  that  were  distributed  gratis  among  the 
guests,  gained  some  jewel,  or  other  prize.  The 
emperor  Heiiogabalus  had  one,  merely  for  the 
sake  of  pleasantry,  of  which  half  the  tickets 
were  beneficial,  and  the  other  half  gained  only 
ridiculous  things  of  no  value.  There  was  for 
instance,  in  one  ticket  six  slaves,  in  another  six 
flies,  in  one,  a  vase  of  value,  and  in  another, 
an  earthen  pot,  and  so  on  of  the  rest. 

These  lotteries  were  an  ingenious  contrivance 
for  displaying  their  liberality,  and  rendering 
the  feast  more  lively  and  affecting,  by  putting 
the  guests  in  good  humor. 

CHAP.  CXV. 

Of  the  introduction  of  the  common  use  of  Wine 
among  the  Romans . 

UNDER  the  commonwealth,  wine  was  so 
scarce  at  Rome,  that  in  the  sacrifices  the  liha 


252 


FLOWERS  OF 


£ions  to  the  gods  were  only  make  with  milk. 
Wine  did  not  become  common  there,  till  about 
six  hundred  years  after  the  foundation  of  the 
city,  when  vines  were  planted.  It  was  in  these 
limes  of  simplicity,  that  women  were  prohibited 
to  drink  it;  and  for  that  reason  their  near  re¬ 
lations  were  permitted  to  salute  them,  when 
they  came  to  their  houses,  in  order  that  they 
might  know  whether  they  had  drank  any;  which 
if  discovered  gave  their  husbands  a  right  to 
punish  them.  According  to  Dionysius  Hali- 
earnassensis,  Romulus  was  the  author  of  the 
law,  which  permitted  husbands  to  put  their 
wives  to  death,  if  they  indulged  themselves  in 
drinking  wine  to  excess.  Valerius  Maximus 
relates,  that  one  Egnatius  Metellus  having  kil¬ 
led  his  wife,  whom  he  found  drinking  out  of 
the  cask,  Romulus  acquitted  him  of  the  mur¬ 
der.  Fabius  Pictor  says  also,  that  a  Roman 
lady,  having  picked  the  lock  of  a  chest  in  which 
were  the  keys  of  the  place  where  the  wine  was 
kept,  her  parents  starved  her  to  death.  Men 
were  likewise  forbid  to  drink  wine  till  the  age 
of  thirty.  Tertullian,  in  his  Apologetic,  men¬ 
tions  the  laws  by  which  these  prohibitions  were 
made;  and  says  they  ordained,  that  not  above 
an  hundred  pence  should  be  expended  upon  an 
entertainment.  But  towards  the  declension  of 
the  commonwealth,  and  under  the  first  empe¬ 
rors,  the  women  were  not  only  permitted  to 
drink  wine,  but  carried  the  excess  of  it  as  far 
as  the  men. 

The  vintage  was  considered  as  a  time  of  di¬ 
version,  in  which  those  employed  in  it,  had  the 


ANCIENT  HISTORY.  255 

liberty  of  insulting  all  passengers.  The  vines 
were  planted  at  the  roots  of  trees,  and  made  to 
creep  up  them,  in  order  to  form  bovvers,  which 
is  still  practised  in  Italy.  The  wine  was  pre¬ 
served  in  great  earthen  vessels,  well  stopped 
with  pitch,  though  they  were  not  ignorant  of 
the  method  of  making  casks;  for  they  used  them 
in  carrying  it  from  place  to  place,  as  well  as 
tanned  skins  of  beasts,  and  green  goat  skins. 
The  older  the  wine  was,  the  more  it  was  in  es~ 
teem.  To  know  its  age,  they  marked  the  year 
upon  the  vessel;  for  which  purpose  they  put  it 
in  an  upper  room,  and  not  in  vaults  as  we  do, 
which  appears  very  extraordinary. 

t'0  nata  mecum  consuls  Manlio c’rc.w.Hor.  Lib.  3.0d.  2t» 

“You,  ray  good  cask,  are  of  a  date 
With  consul  Manlius  and  me, 

Produce  your  charge,  whate’er  it  bes 
Or  love,  or  strife,  or  loud  debate, 

Or  gentle  sleep,  or  wit  serenely  free; 

On  such  a  day,  for  such  a  friend, 

With  massic  juice  our  souls  refine.”.... .Creech. 

;  CHAP.  CXVI. 

Of  the  Supper  given  to  Cicero  and  Pompey  by 

Luculhis . 

WE  may  judge  of  the  extraordinary  luxury 
of  the  Roman  tables,  in  Cicero’s  time,  from 
what  Plutarch  relates  in  the  life  of  Lucullus, 
whose  table  was  supposed  to  be  the  best  and 
most  splendidly  served.  Cicero  and  Pompey 
concerted  between  them  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  taking  him  unprovided;  and  being  alone  with 
Lucullus,  told  him  that  they  would  sup  with 
him,  upon  condition  that  he  would  not  speak 

Y 


FLOWERS  OF 


£54 

to  liis  servants  to  order  any  thing  extraordina¬ 
ry.  He  agreed,  and  only  said  in  their  presence, 
that  he  would  sup  in  the  room  Apollo.  The 
magnificence  of  the  services  surprised  Cicero 
and  Pompey  the  more,  as  not  having  left  him, 
he  had  not  had  an  opportunity  to  give  particu¬ 
lar  orders. 

But  after  Lueullus  had  for  some  time  en¬ 
joyed  the  pleasure  of  their  surprise,  he  confes¬ 
sed  to  them,  that  as  soon  as  his  servants  knew 
in  which  room  he  was  to  cat,  they  were  there¬ 
by  instructed  as  to  the  order,  quantity,  and 
quality  of  the  courses,  and  the  expense  of  the 
supper;  that  being  regulated  to  every  apart¬ 
ment.  The  expense  of  the  Apollo  was  fixed 
at  fifty  thousand  drachmas  of  silver,  which  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  present  value  of  that  metal, 
amounted  to  above  twelve  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds.  This  instance  clearly  shews  to  what 
an  height  the  luxury  of  Home,  and  the  riches 
of  her  citizens  had  arisen. 

CHAP.  CXYII. 

Of  Marriages ,  and  the  Privileges  of  Married 
Persons  among  the  Romans . 

WITH  the  view  of  facilitating  marriages, 
the  commonwealth  annexed  marks  of  distinc¬ 
tion  to  married  persons,  in  order  to  discourage 
libertinism,  and  to  multiply  the  number  of  the 
citizens. 

“ Diva  iproducas  sobolem,  patrumque 
Prosperes  decreta  super  jugandis 
Fctminis,J>rolisque  novae feraci 

Lege  marital...  Jloxr  CariRc  Sec. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


255 


‘:Goddess  of  births - 

Give  us  a  race  mature  and  strong, 

And  all  those  sacred  statutes  bless 
That  guard  the  nuptial  bed  from  wrong, 

And  crown  the  state  with  fair  increase.”... .Creech. 

It  was  ordained  that  amongst  the  people, 
such  as  were  married  should  have  places  in  the 
theatre  separate  from  those  of  the  soldiery; 
that  the  married  magistrates,  or  fathers  of  fa¬ 
milies,  should  also  have  precedency  of  their 
colleagues,  who  were  not  so,  and  that  they 
should  enjoy  the  same  advantage  in  the  case 
of  competition  for  offices.  Besides  which,  pen¬ 
alties  and  fines  were  imposed  upon  those,  who 
after  a  certain  age  lived  in  celibacy. 

As  the  Homans  were  very  much  addicted  to 
superstition,  and  extended  it  to  every  thing  they 
did,  it  is  no  wonder  that  marriage  was  celebra¬ 
ted  amongst  them  with  so  many  ceremonies, 
which  were  the  more  scrupulously  observed,  as 
they  believed  its  happiness  depended  on  it. 

The  first  thing  they  did  was  to  take  the  aus¬ 
pices  before  the  nuptials,  in  order  to  know  the 
will  of  the  gods;  and  they  carefully  avoided 
celebrating  them  on  any  of  those  days  which 
they  held  to  be  unfortunate.  Plutarch  tells 
us,  that  they  did  not  marry  maids  on  public 
holidays;  and  that  widows  were  permitted  to 
marry  on  them,  in  order  that  they  might  he 
seen  by  fewer  people;  the  generality  being  em¬ 
ployed  upon  those  days  in  solemnizing  the  fes¬ 
tival.  This  shews  that  second  marriages  were 
not  in  esteem  among  the  Homans. 

When  the  contract  was  drawn  up,  it  was 
sealed  with  the  seals  of  the  parents;  and  some¬ 
times  the  portion  was  deposited  in  the  hands 


FXOWEItg  OF 


of  the  augur,  who  had  taken  the  auspices. 
Wives,  according  to  (he  law  of  Romulus,  had 
the  advantage  of  inheriting  the  fortunes  of  their 
husbands,  if  they  died  intestate.  When  the 
husband  left  children,  the  wife  divided  it  equal¬ 
ly  with  them.  There  were  also  people  who 
made  it  their  business  to  negotiate  marria  ges, 
and  to  whom  some  gratuity  was  given.  The 
emperors  ordained  that  this  premium  should 
be  in  proportion  to  the  value  of  the  fortune. 
The  age  for  contracts  was  not  fixed  before  the 
time  of  Augustus;  but  that  emperor  ordained 
that  they  should  not  be  made  till  both  parties 
were  marriageable. 

The  bridegroom,  before  the  nuptials,  sent  his 
intended  bride  an  iron  ring  without  any  stones 
in  it,  which  was  the  ceremony  of  contract.  Up- 
on  the  wedding-day,  in  dressing  the  bride’s 
head,  it  was  the  custom  to  part  her  hair  with 
the  point  of  a  spear,  and  to  divide  it  into  six 
tresses,  after  the  manner  of  the  vestals,  to  im¬ 
ply  that  she  would  live  chastely  with  her  hus¬ 
band.  On  her  head  they  put  a  wreath  of  flow¬ 
ers  of  vervain,  and  other  herbs,  w  hich  she  had 
gathered  herself,  and  over  that  wreath  a  veil, 
which  was  sometimes  adorned  with  precious 
stones.  They  made  her  put  on  a  pair  of  shoes 
of  the  same  color  pf  the  veil,  formed  in  the 
manner  of  stilts  or  buskins,  which,  raising  her 
higher  than  those  commonly  worn,  made  her 
stature  appear  to  greater  advantage. 

There  was  anciently  another  ceremony  used 
among  the  Latins,  which  was  to  put  a  yoke  upon 
the  necks  of  those  who  were  married,  to  sig 


AXCIKXT  HlfcTORV. 


nify  that  marriage  is  a  real  yoke;  and  from 
thence  it  had  its  Latin  name  conjugium . 

The  first  Homans  observed  a  ceremony  in 
their  marriages,  which  they  called  corif  ar ratio e 
This  was  to  make  the  new-married  couple  eat 
a  cake  made  only  of  wheat,  salt,  and  water, 
which  the  priest  had  offered  to  the  gods,  in  or¬ 
der  to  imply,  by  that  common  and  sacred  food, 
the  indissoluble  union  that  was  to  subsist  be¬ 
tween  them. 

The  bride  was  dressed  in  a  long  robe  quite 
plain,  either  white  or  saffron  color.  The  nup 
tials  were  always  celebrated  in  the  evening,  by 
the  light  of  five  torches  of  pine-tree,  or  white 
thorn.  Those  torches  were  carried  by  young 
children,  called  pueri  lauti ,  because  they  were 
washed  and  perfumed  for  that  occasion.  Their 
number  of  five  was  mysterious,  as  well  as  the 
rest  of  the  ceremony.  It  was  in  honor  of  five 
divinities,  of  whom  they  said  those  who  were 
married  stood  in  need;  these  were  Jupiter,  Ju¬ 
no,  Yenus,  Diana,  and  the  goddess  of  Persua¬ 
sion.  The  bride  was  led  by  two  young  chil¬ 
dren,  and  a  third  carried  before  her  the  torch 
of  Hymen,  which  it  was  the  custom  for  the 
friends  of  both  parties  to  take  away,  lest  it 
should  he  made  use  of  in  some  enchantment, 
that  might  shorten  the  life  of  one  of  them;  for 
great  virtues  were  ascribed  to  this  torch. 

Whilst  the  bride  was  conducted  in  this  man¬ 
ner  to  her  husband’s  house,  every  one  sung  Hy¬ 
men  Hymencee ,  and  invoked  Thalassius,  who 
was  married  fo  one  of  the  Sabines,  forcibly 
carried  off  by  the  first  Romans*  A  distaff  was. 

y  s- 


258 


FLOWERS  OF 


carried  behind  the  bride,  with  a  spindle,  and  a 
trunk,  or  basket,  which  contained  her  toilet. 
She  was  sprinkled  with  lustral ,  or  holy  water, 
in  order  that  she  might  enter  chaste  into  the 
house  of  her  husband.  As  soon  as  she  arrived 
at  the  door,  which  was  adorned  with  garlands 
of  flowers  and  green  houghs,  tire  and  water 
were  presented  to  her,  to  signify  that  she  was 
to  share  in  the  whole  fortune  of  her  husband. 
At  the  same  time  it  was  the  custom  to  ask 
what  her  name  was;  to  which  she  answered 
Caia,  to  imply  that  she  would  he  as  good  a 
housewife  as  Caia  Csecilia,  the  mother  of  Tar- 
quinius  Prisons.  She  afterwards  put  wool 
upon  the  door,  and  rubbed  it  with  oil  or  (he  fat 
of  a  wolf.  The  attendants  then  carried  her 
over  the  threshold  of  the  door,  taking  particu¬ 
lar  care  that  she  did  not  touch  it,  because  that 
would  have  been  a  very  bad  omen;  and  imme¬ 
diately  after,  the  keys  of  the  house  were  deli¬ 
vered  to  her,  to  signify  that  she  was  entrusted 
with  the  whole  management  of  it.  She  was 
then  made  to  sit  down  on  a  sheep. skin  with  the 
wool  on  it,  to  put  her  in  mind  that  she  was  to 
be  industrious.  When  the  marriage  feast  was 
over,  the  nuptial  bed  was  prepared;  and  after 
the  matrons  called  Fronubce ,  who  accompanied 
the  bride,  had  made  an  end  of  giving  her  in¬ 
structions,  they  put  her  into  the  genial  bed,  so 
called,  because  it  was  prepared  in  honor  of  the 
husband’s  genius.  When  the  bride  was  a  wi¬ 
dow,  great  care  was  taken  to  remove  out  of  the 
chamber,  not  only  the  bed,  hut  all  the  other 
i'urniturt,  w  hith  had  been  used  by  the  first 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


250 


husband;  anil  even  the  door  of  the  chamber 
was  changed.  The  batchelors  and  maids,  on 
leaving  the  married  pair,  desired  them  to  live 
happily  together,  and  before  the  door  was  shut, 
and  they  were  left  alone,  the  husband  threw 
nuts  to  the  children  to  divert  the  attention  of 
the  curious  by  the  noise  they  made  in  scramb¬ 
ling  for  them. 

“Da  nuces  pueris ,  iners 
Concubine;  satis  diu, 

Lusisti  nucibus.  Lubet 

Jam  service  Thalessio 

Concubine  nuees  da.’' . Catull.  Ep.  69, 

“Haste,  slow  lover,  come  away; 

Throw  the  boys  the  nuts  to  play; 

Quit  for  shame  thy  childish  pieasureSj 
For  thy  bride  and  nuptial  treasures; 

Haste,  it  is  thy  wedding-day; 

Throw  the  nuts,  and  come  away.” 

The  Romans  made  several  of  the  gods  to  in 
tervene  at  this  time,  and  ascribed  abundance 
hf  little  trivial  employments  to  them,  lor 
which  it  was  necessary  to  address  each  of  them 
separately.  The  day  after  the  nuptials,  the 
husband  made  a  feast  at  home,  at  which  the 
bride,  who  sat  by  her  husband  on  the  couch  at 
table,  leaned  upon  him  in  a  very  familiar  man¬ 
ner.  Presents  wpre  made  them  that  day,  anil 
the  married  pair  sacrificed  to  the  gods.  The 
married  women  always  retained  their  maiden- 
names,  and  did  not  take  those  of  their  hus¬ 
bands.  If  it  happened  that  a  Roman  citizen 
seduced  a  free  maid,  the  laws  obliged  him  to 
either  marry  her  without  a  portion,  or  to  give 
her  one  suitable  to  her  condition* 


26  0 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  CXVIII. 

Comparison  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes . 

AS  the  Romans  derived  their  eloquence,  po¬ 
etry  and  learning  from  the  Greeks,  so  they 
must  be  confessed  to  be  far  inferior  to  them 
in  genius  for  all  these  accomplishments.  They 
were  a  more  grave  and  magnificent,  though  less 
acute  and  sprightly  people.  They  had  neither 
the  vivacity  nor  sensibility  of  the  Greeks;  their 
passions  were  not  so  easily  moved,  nor  their 
conceptions  so  lively.  In  comparison  of  them, 
they  were  a  phlegmatic  nation.  Their  Ian- 
guage  resembles  their  character:  it  was  regu¬ 
lar,  firm  and  stately,  hut  wanted  that  simple 
and  expressive  naivete,  and  particularly  that 
flexibility  to  suit  every  different  mode  and  spe¬ 
cies  of  composition,  for  which  the  Greek 
tongue  is  distinguished  above  that  of  every 
other  country. 

“ Gratis  ingenium,  Gratis  dedid  ore  rotunda 

Musa  loqui . Hor.  Art  Poet. 

“To  her  lov’d  Greeks  the  muse  indulgent  gave 

To  her  lov’d  Greeks  with  greatness  to  conceive; 

And  in  subliiner  tone  their  language  raise; 

Her  Greeks  were  only  covetous  of  praise.” . Francis . 

And  hence,  when  we  compare  together  the 
various  rival  productions  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
we  shall  always  find  this  distinction  obtain, 
that  in  the  Greek  productions  there  is  more 
native  genius,  in  the  Roman  more  regularity 
and  art.  What  the  Greeks  invented,  the  Ro¬ 
mans  polished;  the  one  was  the  original,  rough 
and  sometimes  incorrect;  the  other  a  finished 
copy. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


261 


With  regard  to  oratory,  the  very  name  of 
Cicero,  suggests  every  thing  that  is  splendid 
in  it.  In  ail  his  orations  there  is  high  art.  He 
begins,  generally,  with  a  regular  exordium; 
and  with  much  preparation  and  insinuation  pre¬ 
possesses  the  hearers,  and  studies  to  gain  their 
affections.  His  method  is  clear,  and  his  argu¬ 
ments  are  arranged  with  great  propriety.  His 
method  is  indeed  more  clear  than  that  of  De¬ 
mosthenes;  and  this  is  one  advantage  he  has 
over  him.  We  find  every  thing  in  its  proper 
place.  He  never  attempts  to  move  till  he  has 
endeavored  to  convince;  and  in  moving,  espe¬ 
cially  the  softer  passions,  he  is  very  successful. 
No  man  knew  the  power  and  force  of  words 
better  than  Cicero.  He  rolls  them  along  with 
the  greatest  beauty  and  pomp,  and  in  the  struc¬ 
ture  of  his  sentences,  is  curious  and  exact  to 
the  highest  degree.  He  is  always  full  and 
flowing,  never  abrupt.  He  is  a  greater  ampli¬ 
fier  of  every  subject,  magnificent,  and  in  his 
sentiments  highly  moral.  His  manner  is  on 
the  whole  diffuse,  yet  it  is  often  happily  varied 
and  suited  to  the  subject.  In  his  four  orations, 
for  instance,  against  Cataline,  the  tone  and 
style  of  each  of  them,  particularly  the  first  and 
last,  is  very  different,  and  accommodated  with 
a  great  deal  of  judgment  to  the  occasion,  and 
the  situation  in  which  they  were  spoken.  When 
a  great  public  object  roused  his  mind,  and  de¬ 
manded  indignation  and  force,  he  departs  con¬ 
siderably  from  the  loose  and  declamatory  man¬ 
ner  to  which  lie  leans  at  other  times,  and  be¬ 
comes  exceeding  cogent  and  vehement.  This 


262 


FLOWERS  OF 


is  the  ease  in  his  orations  against  Antony,  and 
those  two  against  Verres  and  Cataline. 

Together  with  those  high  qualities  which 
Cicero  possesses,  he  is  not  exempt  from  certain 
defects,  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  take  notice. 
Fo^  the  CiccToTTian  eloquence  Is  a  pattern  so 
dazzling  by  its  beauties,  that,  if  not  examined 
with  accuracy  and  judgment,  it  is  apt  to  betray 
the  unwary  into  a  faulty  imitation;  and  I  am 
of  opinion,  that  it  has  sometimes  produced  this 
effect.  In  roost  of  his  orations,  especially  those 
composed  in  the  earlier*part  of  his  life,  there 
is  too  much  art;  even  carried  to  the  length  of 
ostentation.  There  is  too  visible  a  parade  of 
eloquence.  He  seems  often  to  aim  at  obtain¬ 
ing  admiration,  rather  than  at  operating  con¬ 
viction,  by  what  he  says.  Hence  on  some  oc¬ 
casions,  he  is  showy  rather  than  solid;  and  dif¬ 
fuse,  where  he  ought  to  have  been  pressing. 
His  sentences  are,  at  all  times,  round  and  so¬ 
norous.  They  cannot  he  accused  of  monotony, 
for  they  possess  variety  of  cadence.  But  from 
too  great  a  study  of  magnificence,  he  is  some¬ 
times  deficient  in  strength.  On  all  occasions, 
where  there  is  the  least  room  for  it,  he  is  full 
of  himself.  His  great  actions,  and  the  real  ser¬ 
vices  which  he  had  performed  to  his  country, 
apologise  for  this  in  part.  Ancient  manners, 
too,  imposed  fewer  restraints  from  the  side  of 
decorum.  But,  even  after  these  allowances 
made;  Cicero’s  ostentation  of  himself  cannot 
be  wholly  palliated;  and  his  orations,  indeed  all 
his  works,  leave  on  our  minds  the  impression 
of  a  good  man,  but  withal  of  a  vain  man. 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


263 


The  defects  whieli  we  have  now  taken  no¬ 
tice  of  in  Cicero’s  eloquence,  were  not  unob¬ 
served  by  his  own  cotemporaries.  “They  ven¬ 
tured  to  approach  him,”  says  Quinctilian,  “as 
swelling,  redundant,  and  Asiatic;  too  frequent 
in  repetitions;  in  his  attempts  towafds  wit, 
sometimes  cold;  and  in  the  strain  of  his  compo¬ 
sition,  feeble,  desultory  and  more  effeminate 
than  became  a  man.” 

These  censures  were  undoubtedly  carried  too 
far,  and  savor  of  malignity  and  personal  enmi¬ 
ty.  They  saw  his  defect^,  hut  they  aggravated 
them;  and  the  source  of  these  aggravations  car* 
be  traced  to  the  difference  which  prevailed  in 
Home  in  Cfcero’s  days,  between  two  great  par¬ 
ties  the  Attici  and  the  Asiani.  The  former, 
who  called  themselves  the  Attics,  were  the  pa¬ 
trons  of  what  they  conceived  to  be  the  chaste, 
simple,  and  natural  style  of  eloquence:  from 
which  they  accused  Cicero  as  having  departed, 
and  as  leaning  to  the  florid  “Asiatic  manner.  In 
several  of  his  rhetorical  works,  ^ieero,  in  his 
turn,  endeavors  to  expose  this  sect,  as  substitu¬ 
ting  a  frigid  and  jejune  manner  in  place  of  the 
true  Attic  eloquence;  and  contends  that  his  own 
composition  was  formed  upon  the  reaT  Attic 
style. 

In  the  tenth  chapter  of  the  last  book  of 
Quinctilian’s  Institutions,  a  full  account  is  given 
of  the  disputes  between  these  two  parties,  and 
of  the  Rhodian  or  middle  manner  between  the 
Attics  and  Asiatics.  Quinctilian,  himself  de¬ 
clares  on  Cicero’s  side;  and  whether  it  be  cal¬ 
led  Attic  or  Asiatic,  prefers  the  full,  the  to- 


FLOWERS  OE 


264* 

pious,  and  the  amplifying  style.  He  concludes 
with  this  very  just  observation:  “Eloquence 
admits  of  many  different  forms;  and  nothing 
can  he  more  foolish  than  to  inquire,  by  which 
of  them  an  orator  is  to  regulate  his  composi¬ 
tion;  since  every  form,  which  is  just  in  itself, 
has  its  own  place  and  use.  The  orator,  ac¬ 
cording  as  circumstances  require,  will  employ 
them  all;  suiting  them,  not  only  to  the  cause 
or  subject  on  which  he  treats,  but  to  different 
parts  of  the  subject.” 

On  the  subject  of  comparing  Cicero  and  De¬ 
mosthenes,  much  has  been  said  by  critical  wri¬ 
ters.  The  different  manners  of  these  two 
princes  of  eloquence,  and  the  distinguishing 
characters  of  each,  are  so  strongly  marked  in 
their  writings,  that  the  comparison  is,  in  many 
respects,  obvious  and  easy.  The  character  of 
Demosthenes  is  vigor  and  austerity;  that  of 
Cicero  is  gentleness  and  insinuation.  In  the 
one,  you  find  more  manliness,  in  the  other  more 
ornament.  The  one  is  more  harsh,  but  more 
spirited  and  cogent;  the  other  more  agreeable, 
but  withal,  looser  and  weaker. 

To  account  for  this  difference  without  any 
prejudice  to  Cicero,  it  has  been  said,  that  we 
must  look  to  the  nature  of  tlieir  auditories;  that 
the  refined  Athenians  followed  with  ease  the 
concise  and  convincing  eloquence  of  Demos¬ 
thenes;  hut  that  a  manner  more  popular,  more 
flowery,  and  declamatory,  was  requisite  in  speak¬ 
ing  to  the  Romans,  a  people  less  acute,  and 
less  acquainted  with  the  arts  of  speech.  But 
ft  was  not  satisfactory.  For  we  must  observe 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


26  o 


that  the  Greek  orator  spoke  much  oftener  be¬ 
fore  a  mixed  multitude,  than  the  Roman.  Al¬ 
most  all  the  public  business  of  Athens  was 
transacted  in  popular  assemblies.  '  The  com¬ 
mon  people  were  his  bearers  and  judges,. 
Whereas  Cicero  generally  addressed  himself 
to  the  Patres  Conseripti,  or  in  criminal  trials  to 
the  Prsetor,  and  select  judges;  and  it  cannot  be 
imagined  that  persons  of  the  highest  rank,  and 
best  education  in  Rome,  required  a  more  dif¬ 
fuse  manner  of  pleading  than  the  common  ci¬ 
tizens  of  Athens?  in  order  to  make  them  un¬ 
derstand  the  cause,  or  relish  the  speaker.  Per¬ 
haps  we  shall  come  nearer  the  truth,  by  ob¬ 
serving  that  to  unite  all  the  qualities,  without 
the  least  exception,  that  makes  a  perfect  orator, 
and  to  excel  equally  in  each  of  those  qualities, 
is  not  to  be  expected  from  the  limited  powers 
of  human  genius.  The  highest  degree  of 
strength,  is,  i  suspect,  never  found  united  with 
the  highest  degree  of  smoothness  and  ornament; 
equal  attentions  to  both  are  incompatible;  and 
the  genius  that  carries  ornament  to  its  utmost 
length,  is  not  of  such  a  kind,  as  can  excel  as 
much  in  vigor.  For  there  plainly  lies  the  eba- 
racteristical  difference  between  these  two  cele¬ 
brated  orators. 

It  is  a  disadvantage  to  Demosthenes,  besides 
his  conciseness,  which  sometimes  produces  ob¬ 
scurity,  that  the  language  in  which  he  writes 
is  less  familiar  to  most  of  us  than  the  Latin, 
and  that  we  are  less  acquainted  with  the  Greek 
antiquities  than  we  are  with  the  Roman.  We 
read  Cicero  with  more  ease,  and  of  course  with 

X 


266 


FLOWERS  OF 


more  pleasure.  Independent  of  this  circum* 
stance,  too,  he  is  no  douht,  in  himself,  a  more 
agreeable  writer  than  the  other.  But  notwith¬ 
standing  this  advantage,  I  am  of  opinion,  that 
were  the  state  in  danger,  or  some  great  na¬ 
tional  interest  at  stake,  which  drew  the  serious 
attention  of  the  public,  an  oration  in  the  spirit 
and  strain  of  Demosthenes,  would  have  more 
weight,  and  produce  greater  effects  than  one  in 
the  Ciceronian  -manner.  Were  Demosthenes’ 
Philippics  spoken  in  a  British  assembly,  in  a 
similar  conjuncture  of  affairs,  they  would  con¬ 
vince  and  persuade  at  this  day.  The  rapid  style, 
the  vehement  reasoning,  the  disdain,  anger,  bold¬ 
ness,  freedom,  which  perpetually  animate  them, 
would  render  their  success  infallible  over  any 
modern  assembly.  I  question  whether  the 
same  can  be  said  of  Cicero’s  orations;  whose 
eloquence,  however  beautiful,  and  however 
suited  to  the  Roman  taste,  yet  borders  oftener 
on  declamation,  and  is  more  remote  from  the 
manner  in  which  we  now  expect  to  hear  real 
business  and  causes  of  importance  to  he  treated. 

In  comparing  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  most 
of  the  French  critics  are  disposed  to  give  the 
preference  to  the  latter.  P.  Rapin  the  Jesuit, 
in  the  parallels  which  he  has  drawn  between 
some  of  the  most  ancient  Greek  and  Roman 
writers,  uniformly  decides  in  favor  of  the  Ro¬ 
man.  For  the  preference  which  he  gives  to 
Cicero,  he  assigns,  and  lays  stress  upon,  one 
reason  of  a  pretty  extraordinary  nature;  name¬ 
ly,  that  Demosthenes  could  not  possibly  have 
so  complete  an  insight  as  Cicero,  into  the  man- 


Z6  7 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 

v 

ners  and  passions  of  men.  Why  not?  Because 
he  had  the  advantage  of  perusing  Aristotle’s 
treatise  on  rhetoric,  wherein,  says  our  critic, 
he  has  fully  laid  open  that  mystery.  And  to 
support  this  weighty  argument,  he  enters  into 
a  controversy  with  A.  Gellius,  in  order  to  prove 
that  Aristotle’s  Rhetoric  was  not  published  till 
after  Demosthenes  had  spoken,  at  least,  his 
most  considerable  orations.  Nothing  can  be 
more  childish.  Such  orators  as  Cicero  and 
Demosthenes,  received  their  knowledge  of  the 
human  passions,  and  their  power  of  moving 
them,  from  higher  sources  than  any  treatise  of 
Rhetoric. 

One  French  critic  has  indeed  departed  from 
the  common  track;  and  after  bestowing  on  Ci- 
cero  those  just  praises,  to  which  the  consent  of 
so  many  ages  shows  him  to  be  entitled,  con¬ 
cludes,  however,  with  giving  the  palm  to  De¬ 
mosthenes.  This  is  Fenelon,  the  famous  arch¬ 
bishop  of  Cambray,  and  author  of  Telemaehus; 
himself  surely  no  enemy  to  all  the  graces  and 
flowers  of  composition.  It  is  in  his  reflections 
on  rhetoric  and  poetry,  that  he  gives  this  judg¬ 
ment;  a  sjnall  tract  commonly  published  with 
his  dialogues  on  eloquence.  These  dialogues 
and  reflections  are  particularly  worthy  of  pe¬ 
rusal,  as  containing,  perhaps,  the  justest  ideas 
on  the  subject,  that  are  to  be  met  with  in  any 
modern  critical  writer. 


FLOWERS  OF 


CHAP.  CXIX. 

Comparison  of  Virgil  and  Homer, 

AS  to  the  comparative  merit  of  these  two 
great  princes  of  Epic  poetry,  Homer  and  Vir¬ 
gil,  the  former  must  undoubtedly  be  admitted 
to^  he  the  greater  genius;  tiro  latter  to  be  the 
more  correct;  writer.  Homer  wa$  an  original 
in  his  art,  and  discovers  both  the  beauties  and 
the  'defects,  which  are  to-be  expected  in  an 
original  author,  compared  with  those  who  suc¬ 
ceeded  him;  more  boldness  more  nature  and 
ease,  more  sublimity  and  force,  but  greater  ir¬ 
regularities  and  negligences  in  composition. 
Virgil  has,  all  along,  kept  his  eye  upon  Homer; 
in  many  places,  he  has  not  so  much  imitated, 
as  he  has  literally  translated  him.  The  de¬ 
scription  of  the  storm,  for  instance,  in  the 
jEneid,  and  ./Eneas’  speech  upon  that  occasion, 
are  translations  from  the  fifth  hook  of  the 
Odyssey;  not  to  mention  almost  all  the  similies 
of  Virgil,  which  are  no  other  thaji  copies  of 
those  of  Homer.  The  pre-eminence  of  inven¬ 
tion,  therefore,  must,  beyond  doubt,  be  ascri¬ 
bed  to  Homer.  “As  to  the  pre-eminence  in 
judgment.”  says  Dr.  Blair,  “though  many  cri¬ 
tics  are  disposed  to  give  it  to  Virgil,  yet,  in  my 
opinion,  it  hangs  doubtful.  In  Homer  we  ob¬ 
serve  the  Greek  vivacity;  in  Virgil,  ail  the  Ro¬ 
man  stateliness.  Homer’s  imagination  is  by 
much  the  most  rich  and  copious;  Virgil’s  the 
most  chaste  and  correct.  The  strength  of  the 
former  lies  in  his  power  of  warming  the  fancy: 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


269 


that  of  the  latter;  in  his  power  of  torching  the 
heart.  Homer’s  style  is  more  simple  and  ani¬ 
mated;  Virgil’s  more  elegant  and  uniform.*— 
The  first  has,  on  many  occasions,  a  sublimity 
to  which  the  latter  never  attains;  but  the  lat¬ 
ter,  in  return,  never  sinks  below  a  certain  de¬ 
gree  of  epic  dignity,  which  cannot  so  clearly 
be  pronounced  of  the  former.  Not,  however, 
to  detract  from  the  admiration  due  to  both 
these  great  poets,  most  of  Homer’s  defects  may 
reasonably  be  imputed,  not  to  his  genius,  but 
to  the  manners  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived, 
and  for  the  feeble  passages  of  the  JBneid,  this 
excuse  ought  to  be  admitted,  that  the  JEneid 
was  left  an  unfinished  work.” 

Mr.  Pope’s  comparison  of  Homer  and  Vir 
gil  is  no  less  striking  than  just;  “Homer,’* 
says  he,  “hurries  and  transports  us  with  a  com¬ 
manding  impetuosity-,  Virgil  leads  us  with  an 
attractive  majesty.  Homer  scatters  with  a  ge¬ 
nerous  profusion,  Virgil  bestow  s  with  a  careful 
magnificence.  Homer,  like  the  Nile,  pours 
out  his  riches  with  a  sudden  overflow;  Virgil, 
like  a  river  in  its  banks,  with  a  gentle  and 
constant  stream.  When  we  behold  their  bat¬ 
tles,  methinks  the  two  poets  resemble  the  he¬ 
roes  they  celebrate.  Homer,  boundless  and 
irresistible  as  Achilles,  bears  all  before  him, 
and  shines  more  and  more  as  the  tumult  in¬ 
creases;  Virgil,  calmly  daring,  like  iEneas, 
appears  undisturbed  in  the  midst  of  action, 
disposes  all  about  him,  and  conquers  with  tran¬ 
quility.  And  when  we  look  upon  their  ma¬ 
chines,  Homer  seems  like  kk  own  Jupiter  in 

z  % 


270 


FLOWERS  OF 


liis  terrors,  shaking  Olympus,  scattering  the 
lightnings,  and  firing  the  Heavens.  Virgil, 
like  the  same  power  in  his  benevolence,  coun¬ 
selling  with  the  Gods,  laying  plans  for  em¬ 
pires,  regularly  ordering  his  whole  creation.” 

Dryden  speaks  of  Virgil  as  a  grave,  suc¬ 
cinct,  and  majestic  writer,  one  who  weighed 
not  only  every  thought,  but  every  word  and  syl¬ 
lable;  who  was  still  aiming  to  crowd  his  sense 
into  as  narrow  a  compass  as  he  could;  for  which 
reason  he  is  so  very  figurative,  that  he  requires, 
as  it  were,  a  grammar  apart  to  construe  him. 
His  verse  is  every  where  sounding  the  very 
thing  in  your  ears,  whose  sefise  it  bears;  yet 
the  numbers  are  perpetually  varied  to  increase 
the  delight  of  the  reader,  so  that  the  same 
sounds  are  never  repeated  twice  together.  But 
though  he  is  smooth  where  smoothness  is  re¬ 
quired,  yet  he  is  so  far  from  affecting  it,  that 
he  seems  rather  to  disdain  it;  for  he  frequently 
makes  use  of  synalo*phas,  and  concludes  his 
sense  in  (he  middle  of  his  verse.  He  is  every 
where  above  the  conceits  of  epigrammatic  wit; 
and  gross  hyperboles.  He  maintains  majesty 
ih  the  midst  of  plainness.  He  shines,  but  glares 
not,  and  is  stately  without  ambition. 

Martial  says  of  him,  that  he  could  have  ex¬ 
celled  Varius  in  tragedy,  and  Horace  in  lyric 
poetry;  hut  out  of  deference  to  his  friends  he 
attempted  neither. 

Among  the  follies  of  Caligula,  we  may  un¬ 
doubtedly  reckon  his  hatred  and  contempt  for 
this  poet,  whose  writings  and  effigies  he  endea¬ 
vored  to  remove  out  of  all  libraries.  He  bad 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


274 

the  confidence  to  say  that  Virgil  had  neither 
wit  nor  learning. 

The  emperor  Alexander  Servius  judged  quite 
otherwise.  He  called  him  the  Plato  of  the  po¬ 
ets,  and  placed  his  picture  with  that  of  Cicero, 
in  the  temple,  in  which  he  had  placed  Achil¬ 
les  and  other  great  men. 

He  was  so  much  respected  by  the  senate  and 
the  people  of  Rome,  that  when  they  heard  any 
of  his  verses  in  the  theatre,  every  body  imme¬ 
diately  stood  up;  and  if  by  chance  Virgil  was 
present,  they  paid  him  the  same  respect  as  they 
did  to  Csesai*  himself. 

CHAP.  CXX. 

Of  Horace ,  and  his  merit  as  a  lyric  poet, 

QUINTUS  HORATIUS  FLACCUS  was 
born  at  Venusium,  a  city  of  Italy,  in  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  December,  about  the  year  of  Rome  688, 
three  years  after  the  conspiracy  of  Catiline. 
His  father  is  said  to  have  been  a  Salter,  the 
son  of  a  freedman,  who  was  a  tax-gatherer. 
The  circumstances  of  his  fortune  were  not 
straitened,  and  observing  an  early  forwardness 
in  his  son,  he  resolved  to  furnish  him  with  a 
suitable  education,  and  for  that  purpose  remo¬ 
ved  him  to  Rome  whem  he  was  about  ten  years 
old.  He  bred  him  in  the  best  school,  and  in 
the  company  of  noblemen  of  the  first  quality. 
The  father  had  a  good  share  of  natural  sense; 
and  fond  of  the  prospect  of  his  son’s  future 
character*  he  took  pleasure  in  forming  the  mo 


FLOWERS  OF 


^  *  xW 

rals  of  the  youth  himself;  and  all  the  virtue* 
arenerositv  and  good  conduct,  which  were  so  re- 
markable  in  the  life  of  this  excellent  poet, 
were  principally  owing  to  the  care  and  cultiva¬ 
tion  of  the  best  of  fathers,  as  the  son  in  man^ 
places  of  his  works  gratefully  confesses. 

“ Si  neqtxe  avaritiam ,  ^....Lib.  1.  Sat.  6. 

“If  none  on  me  can  truly  fix  disgrace, 

If  I  am  neither  covetous  nor  base, 

If  innocent  my  life;  if  to  commend 
Myself,  I  live  belov'd  by  every  friend; 

I  thank  my  father  for’t.” 

When  he  was  about  eighteen,  he  was  sent 
to  Athens,  where  he  completed  what  his  father 
had  so  well  begun,  and  acquired  all  those  ac¬ 
complishments  which  polite  learning,  added  to 
the  society  of  the  first  wits  of  the  age,  could 
afford  him.  Brutus  about  this  time  going  into 
Macedonia,  and  being  under  great  difficulties 
to  furnish  bis  army  with  officers,  took  Horace 
into  his  service,  and  made  him  a  tribune;  but 
he  shamefully  fled  at  the  battle  of  Philippi,  and 
which  was  the  most  inglorious  action  in  a  sol¬ 
dier,  he  threw  away  his  shield.  This  he  con¬ 
fesses  himself  in  an  ode  to  his  friend  Pompeius 
Varus,  who  was  with  him  in  that  battle,  asld 
was  his  companion  in  flight. 

“ Tecum  Phiiippos, 

“The  bloody  wars,  Philippi’s  field, 

Ignobly  having  lost  my  shield, 

With  thee  I  saw  secure  from  wound, 

I  saw  thee  fight,  when  Pompev  proud 
To  Caesar’s  stronger  virtue  bow’d, 

And  basely  bit  the  bloody  ground.” 

It  is  supposed  that  Horace  would  scarce 
have  been  so  ingenuous  as  to  confess  this  infa¬ 
mous  adventure,  if  he  had  not  had  the  exam- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


273 


pies  of  two  great  poets,  Archilochus  and  Alseus 
before  him,  who  both  owned  themselves  guilty 
of  the  same  cowardice. 

The  general  rout  at  Philippi  reduced  this 
runaway  tribune  to  the  greatest  distress;  for 
his  estate  was  forfeited,  and  became  a  prey  to 
the  conquerors.  He  was  naturally  indolent, 
and  loved  retirement,  hut  necessity  obliged  him 
to  write,  and  his  muse  so  successfully  assisted 
him,  that  she  soon  introduced  him  into  the  most 
polite  company. 

He  soon  became  acquainted  with  Virgil, who 
recommended  him  to  Meesenas,  the  general  pa¬ 
tron  of  learning  in  that  age.  This  great  cour¬ 
tier  spoke  favorable  of  him  to  Augustus,  who 
was  so  taken  with  his  merit  and  address,  that 
he  made  him  his  chief  confidant  in  his  private 
pleasures  and  diversions,  offered  him  honors 
and  advantages,  which  he  in  a  great  manner 
declined  accepting,  and  restored  him  to  the 
possession  of  his  estate.  Growing  st ill  more 
intimate  with  Mecamas,  he  had  the  opportunity 
of  discovering  all  the  amiable  parts  of  his  cha- 
raeter,  which  wonderfully  endeared  his  patron 
to  him,  and  made  him  conceive  a  very  tender 
friendship  for  him.  The  continued  favor  of 
the  emperor  furnished  that  poet  with  such  a 
competency,  as  left  him  at  full  liberty  to  retire 
and  enjoy  the  fruits  of  the  imperial  bounty.  In 
many  places  he  very  feelingly  describes  the 
pleasures  of  a  country  life,  and  the  delights  of 
his  villa,  or  seat  at  Tibur,  and  that  in  the  coun¬ 
try  of  the  Tarentincs. 

His  love  of  retirement  increasing  with  his 


274 


^LOWERS  OR 


age,  he  at  last  resolved  to  leave  the  city,  and 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  the  ease  and 
privacy  of  rural  life.  He  died  in  the  fifty-se¬ 
venth  year  of  his  age,  about  twenty  days  after 
his  friend  Mecfenas,  with  whose  loss  he  was  so 
deeply  affected  that  it  was  supposed  to  have 
shortened  his  life.  He  was  buried  near  Mecse- 
nas’  tomb,  and  by  his  last  words  declared  Me^ 
csenas  his  heir,  the  violence  of  his  distemper 
being  such  that  he  was  not  capable  of  signing 
his  will.  He  was  wholly  indifferent  to  any 
magnificent  funeral  rites,  or  fruitless  sorrow 
for  his  death.  He  was  confident  of  immortality 
from  his  works. 

Absint  inani  funere  ncenice ,  c£v....Lib.  2.  Ode  20. 

“Say  not  I  died,  nor  shed  a  tear, 

Nor  round  my  ashes  mourn; 

Nor  of  ray  needless  obsequies  take  care, 

All  pomp  and  state  is  lost  upon  an  empty  urn.'’ 

Horace  was  of  a  cheerful  temper,  fond  of 
ease  and  liberty,  but  ready  to  serve  bis  friend, 
and  grateful  to  bis  benefactors;  of  a  tender  and 
amorous  disposition;  warm  and  passionate,  but 
soon  pacified. 

He  loved  good  company  and  a  cheerful  glass; 
but  being  a  person  of  an  elegant  taste  in  con¬ 
versation,  he  affected  an  entire  freedom,  and 
that  the  glass  should  circulate,  or  stand  still, 
at  the  discretion  of  bis  guests. 

He  was  very  short  and  corpulent,  as  Augus¬ 
tus  in  a  letter  to  him  informs  us,  comparing 
him  to  the  book  he  sent  him,  which  was  a  lit¬ 
tle  thick  volume. 

The  works  of  Horace  consist  of  five  books 
of  Odes,  his  Carman  Seculare,  two  bojoks  of 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


275 


Satires,  two  of  Epistles,  and  his  letter  to  the 
two  Pisos  upon  the  art  of  poetry. 

The  Ode  is  a  species  of  poetical  composition 
which  possesses  much  dignity,  and  in  which 
many  writers  have  distinguished  themselves  in 
every  age.  Its  peculiar  character  is,  that  it 
is  intended  to  be  sung,  or  accompanied  with 
music.  Its  designation  implies  this.  Ode  is 
in  Greek  the  same  with  song  or  hymn;  and  ly¬ 
ric  poetry  imports  that  the  verses  are  accom¬ 
panied  with  a  lyre,  or  musical  instrument. 
This  distinction  was  not,  at  first,  particular  to 
any  one  species  of  poetry.  For  music  and  po¬ 
etry  were  cceval,  and  were  originally  always 
joined  together.  But  after  their  separation 
took  place,  after  bards  had  begun  to  make  verse 
compositions,  which  were  to  be  recited  or  read, 
not  to  be  sung,  such  poems  as  were  designed 
to  be  still  joined  to  music  or  song,  were  by  way 
of  distinction,  called  Odes. 

In  the  Ode,  therefore,  poetry  retains  its  first 
and  most  ancient  form;  that  form,  under  which 
the  original  bards  poured  forth  their  enthusi¬ 
astic  strains,  praised  their  gods  and  their  he¬ 
roes,  celebrated  their  victories,  and  lamented 
their  misfortunes. 

“With  regard  to  lyric  poetry,”  says  Raping 
“Horace  found  tiie  art  to  join  all  the  force  and 
high  flight  of  Pindar,  with  all  the  sweetness 
and  delicacy  of  Anacreon,  and  to  make  himself 
a  new  character  by  uniting  the  perfections  of 
the  other  two.  For  besides  that  he  had  a  wit 
naturally  pleasant,  he  had  nobleness  in  his  con¬ 
ceits,  and  delicacy  in  his  thoughts  and  seniT 


FLOWERS  OF 


276 

ments.  Those  Odes,  upon  which  he  chose  to 
bestow  pains,  are  master  pieces;  but  it  requires 
a  very  clear  apprehension  to  discern  all  his 
wit;  for  there  are  many  secret  graces  and  hid¬ 
den  beauties  in  his  verse,  which  few  can  disco- 
*  ver.” 

“Horace,”  says  Scaliger,  “is  the  most  exact 
and  elaborate  of  all  the  Greek  and  Latin  poets. 
His  Lyrics  have  an  harmonious  and  majestic 
sound.  His  Odes  are  so  full  of  fancy  and 
beauty,  so  much  purity  in  the  style,  so  great  a 
variety,  and  such  new  turns  in  the  figures,  that 
they  are  not  only  proof  against  the  censure  of 
critics,  but  also  above  the  highest  encomiums. 
These  compositions  of  his  are  of  several  sorts; 
they  are  either  moral,  panegyrical,  or  Baccha¬ 
nalian.  In  his  Lyric  poems  upon  divine  mat¬ 
ters,  he  is  grave  and  majestic;  in  those  which 
contain  the  praise  of  his  heroes,  pompous  and 
sublime;  in  those  that  relate  to  pleasure  and 
free  enjoyment,  gay  and  lively.  'In  his  Iam¬ 
bics  he  is  severe  and  cutting.  That  which  dig¬ 
nifies  his  style  from  all  other  poets,  is  the  ele¬ 
gance  of  his  words,  and  the  musical  numbers 
of  his  verse.  There  is  nothing  so  delicately 
turned  in  all  the  Roman  language.  There  ap¬ 
pears  in  every  part  of  his  diction,  a  kind  of  no¬ 
ble  and  bold  purity.  Ilis  words  are  chosen 
with  as  much  exactness  as  Virgil’s,  but  there 
seems  to  be  a  greater  spirit  in  them.  There  is 
a  secret  happiness  attends  his  choice,  which  by 
Fetronius  is  called  Curiosi  Felicitas.  But  the 
most  distinguishing  part  of  all  his  character 
seems  to  be  his  briskness,  his  jollity,  and  his 
good  humor*” 


ANCIENT  IIISTOltr. 


'27  7 


“Of  all  thejyriters  of  Odes,  ancient  or  mo¬ 
dern,”  says  Dr.  Blair,  “there  is  none,  that,  in 
point  of  correctness,  harmony,  and  happy  ex¬ 
pression,  can  vie  with  Horace.  He  has  de¬ 
scended  from  the  Pindaric  rapture  to  a  more 
moderate  degree  of  elevation;  and  joins  con¬ 
nected  thought  and  good  sense,  with  the  high¬ 
est  beauties  of  poetry.  He  does  not  often  as¬ 
pire  beyond  the  middle  region;  and  those  Odes, 
in  which  he  attempts  the  sublime,  are  perhaps 
not  always  his  best.  The  peculiar  character 
in  which  he  excels  is  grace  and  elegance;  and 
in  his  style  of  composition,  no  poet  has  ever 
attained  to  a  greater  perfection  than  Horace. 
No  poet  supports  a  moral  sentiment  with  more 
dignity,  touches  a  gay  one  more  happily,  or 
possesses  the  art  of  trifling  more  agreeably, 
when  he  eli uses  to  trifle.  His  language  is  so 
fortunate,  that  with  a  single  word  or  epithet, 
he  often  conveys  a  whole  description  to  the  fan¬ 
cy.  Hence  he  ever  has  been,  and  ever  will 
continue  to  be,  a  favorite  author  with  all  per¬ 
sons  of  taste.” 

Among  the  Latin  poets  of  latter  ages  there 
have  been  many  imitators  of  Horace.  One  of 
the  most  distinguished  is  Casimir,  a  Polish  poet 
of  the  last  century,  who  wrote  four  hooks  of 
Odes,  in  graceful  ease  of  expression,  he  is 
far  inferior  to  the  Roman.  He  oftener  affects 
the  sublime;  and  in  the  attempt,  like  other  Ly¬ 
ric  writers,  frequently  becomes  harsh  and  un¬ 
natural.  But  on  several  occasions,  he  disco¬ 
vers  a  considerable  degree  of  original  genius, 
and  poetical  fire.  Buchanan,  in  some  of  his 

A  A 


378 


FLOWERS  OF 


Lyric  compositions,  is  very  elegant  and  elas. 
sicale 

CHAP.  CXXL 

Comparison  between  Horace  and  Juvenal . 

THE  writings  of  Juvenal- consist  of  sixteen 
Satire^,  which  have  justly  had  their  admirers 
among  the  learned  in  all  ages.  And,  indeed, 
the  works  of  this  poet  are  so  complete  a  sys¬ 
tem  of  morality,  and  so  perfect  a  body  of  use¬ 
ful  philosophy;  they  express  so  just  a  rage 
against  the  shocking  vices  of  the  times  in 
which  he  lived,  that  lie  has  scarcely  left  any 
thing  unsaid  upon  (he  subjects  he  made  choice 
of.  The  jealousy  and  the  high  guilt  of  the 
age,  obliged  him  often  to  draw  characters,  and 
to  represent  crimes  under  the  names  of  per¬ 
sons  who  had  been  long  dead;  for  the  corrup¬ 
tion  was  too  great  and  universal,  and  the  power 
of  the  vicious  too  formidable  to  be  attacked 
without  danger;  and  this  cautious  method  has 
been  followed  successfully  by  succeeding  sati¬ 
rists,  in  many  states  and  countries,  whicl^la- 
bored  under  the  same  misfortune. 

The  Satire  of  this  poet  deserves  the  highest 
encomiums.  He  is  so  full  of  divine  sentiments, 
and  his  sentences  arc  so  grave  and  moral,  that 
he  may  properly  be  called  The  Prophet  of  the 
Latin  Poets.  Many  prefer  his  pieces  before 
ail  the  morals  of  Aristotle;  and  some  pro¬ 
nounce  him  equal  to  Seneca  and  Epictetus. 

To  form  an  exact  comparison  between  Ho¬ 
race  and  Juvenal,  is  a  difficult  undertaking; 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


279 


If  it  be  only  argued  which  of  them  was  the  bet¬ 
ter  poet,  the  victory  is  already  gained  on  the 
side  of  Horace.  Virgil  himself  must  yield  to 
him  in  his  choice  of  words,  and  perhaps  in  the 
purity  of  his  Latin.  He  who  says  that  Pindar 
is  inimitable,  is  himself  inimitable  in  his  Odes. 
But  the  contention  between  these  two  great 
masters  is  for  the  prize  of  satire;  in  which  con¬ 
troversy  all  the  Odes  and  Epodes  of  Horace 
are  to  stand  excluded. 

It  must  be  granted  by  the  admirers  of  Juve¬ 
nal,  that  Horace  is  more  copious  and  profitable 
in  his  instructions  of  human  life;  but  Juvenal 
is  the  more  delightful  author.  I  am  profited 
by  both,  I  am  pleased  with  both;  but  I  owe 
more  to  Horace  for  mv  instruction,  and  more 
to  Juvenal  for  my  pleasure.  Juvenal  is  of  a 
more  vigorous  and  masculine  wit  than  Horace; 
he  gives  me  as  much  pleasure  as  I  can  bear; 
he  fully  satisfies  my  expectation;  his  spleen  is 
raised,  and  he  raises  mine.  He  drives  his  rea¬ 
der  along  with  him,  and  when  he  is  at  the  end 
of  his  journey  I  willingly  stop  with  him.  If 
we  went  another  stage  it  would  be  too  far;  it 
would  turn  delight  into  fatigue.  When  he 
gives  over,  it  is  a  sign  that  the  subject  is  ex¬ 
hausted,  and  that  the  wit  of  man  can  carry  it 
no  farther. 

If  any  fault  can  be  justly  found  in  Juvenal, 
it  is  that  he  is  sometimes  too  luxuriant,  says 
more  than  be  needs,  but  never  more  than 
pleases.  Add  to  this,  that  his  thoughts  are  as 
just  as  those  of  Horace,  and  much  more  eleva¬ 
ted.  His  expressions  are  sonorous  and  musi¬ 
cal,  his  verses  harmonious;  and  his  words  are 


280 


FLOWERS  OF 


suited  to  his  thoughts,  sublime  and  lofty.  All 
these  contribute  to  the  pleasure  of  the  reader; 
and  the  greater  the  soul  of  him  who  reads,  his 
transports  are  the  greater. 

Horace  is  always  on  the  amble,  Juvenal  on 
the  gallop;  but  his  way  is  perpetually  on  car¬ 
pet-ground.  He  goes  with  more  impetuosity 
than  Horace,  but  as  securely;  and  his  swiftness 
&  ves  a  lively  agitation  to  the  spirits.  The 
sauce  of  Juvenal  is  more  poignant  to  create  in 
us  an  appetite  for  reading  him.  The  meat  of 
Horace  is  more  nourishing,  but  the  cookery  of 
Juvenal  is  mere  exquisite.  So  that  granting 
Horace  to  be  the  more  general  philosopher,  we 
cannot  deny  that  Juvenal,  in  satire,  was  the 
greater  poet.  His  thoughts  are  sharper,  and 
his  indignation  against  vice  more  vehement. 
His  spirit  has  more  of  the  commonwealth  ge¬ 
nius.  He  treats  tyranny,  and  all  the  vices  at¬ 
tending  it.  as  they  deserve,  with  the  ut  most  ri¬ 
gor;  and  consequently  a  noble  soul  is  better 
pleased  with  a  zealous  vindicator  of  Roman 
liberty,  than  with  a  seemingly  temporizing 
poet. 

Horace,  however,  had  the  disadvantage  of 
the  times  in  which  he  lived.  They  were  better 
for  the  man,  and  worse  for  the  satirist.  Those 
enormous  vices,  practised  under  the  reign  of 
Domitian,  were  unknown  in  the  time  of  Au¬ 
gustus  Cflesar.  Juvenal,  therefore,  had  a  lar¬ 
ger  field  than  Horace.  Little  follies  could  not 
be  taken  notice  of,  when  oppression  was  to  be 
scourged  instead  of  avarice.  It  was  not  a  time 
to  turn  into  ridicule  the  false  opinions  of  phi 

4  4 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


281 


iosophers,  when  the  Homan  liberty  was  to  lie 
•  asserted, 

CHAP.  CXXIL 

Of  Pastoral  Poetry ,  and  a  Comparison  between 
Virgil  and  Theocritus . 

* 

PASTORAL  poetry  is  a  natural,  and  very 
agreeable  form  of  poetical  composition.  Itrc- 
cals  to  our  imagination  those  gay  scenes,  and 
pleasant  views  of  nature,  which  commonly  are 
the  delight  of  our  childhood  and  youth;  and 
to  which,  in  more  advanced  years,  the  greater 
part  of  men  recur  with  pleasure.  It  exhibits 
to  us  a  life,  with  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
associate  the  ideas  of  peace,  of  leisure,  and  of 
innocence;  and,  therefore,  we  readily  set  open 
our  heart  to  such  representations  as  promise  to 
banish  from  our  thoughts  the  cares  of  the 
world,  and  to  transport  us  into  calm  Elysian 
regions.  At  the.  same  time,  no  subject  seems 
to  be  more  favorable  to  poetry.  Amidst  rural 
objects,  nature  presents,  on  all  bands,  the  finest 
field  for  description;  and  nothing  appears  to 
flow  more,  of  its  own  accord,  into  poetical  num* 
hers  than  rivers  and  mountains,  meadows  and 
hills,  docks  and  trees,  and  shepherds  void  of 
care.  Hence  this  species  of  poetry  has,  at  all 
times,  allured  many  readers,  and  excited  many 
writers.  Rut  notwithstanding  the  advantages 
it  possesses,  there  is  hardly  any  species  of  po¬ 
etry  which  is  more  difficult  to  be  carried  in¬ 
fection,  or  in  which  fewer  writers  nave  excelled, 

a  a  % 


282 


FLOWERS  GE 


Pastoral  life  may  be  considered  in  three  dif¬ 
ferent  views;  either  such  as  it  now  actually  is. 
when  the  state  of  shepherds  is  reduced  to  he  a 
mean,  servile,  and  laborious  state,  when  their 
employments  are  become  disagreeable,  and 
their  ideas  gross  and  low;  or  such  as  we  may 
suppose  it  once  to  have  been,  in  the  more  early 
and  simple  ages,  when  it  was  a  life  of  ease  and 
abundance;  when  the  wealth  of  men  consisted 
chiefly  in  flocks  and  herds,  and  the  shepherd, 
though  unrefined  in  his  manners,  was  respected 
in  his  state;  or,  lastly,  such  as  it  never  was, 
nor  never  can  in  reality  he,  when  to  the  ease, 
innocence,  and  simplicity  of  the  early  ages,  we 
attempt  to  add  the  polished  taste,  and  cultiva¬ 
ted  manners  of  modern  times. 

Of  these  three  states,  the  first  is  too  gross 
and  mean,  the  last  too  refined  and  unnatural  to 
be  made  the  ground-work  of  pastoral  poetry. 
'Either  of  these  extremes  is  a  rock  upon  which 
tl$e  poet  will  split,  if  approached  too  near  it. 
We  shall  he  disgusted  if  lie  gives  us  too  much 
of  the  servile  employments  and  low  ideas  of 
actual  peasants,  as  Theocritus  is  censured  for 
having  sometimes  done;  and  if,  like  some  of 
the  French  and  Italian  writers  of  pastorals,  he 
'makes  his  shepherds  discourse  as  if  they  were 
courtiers  and  scholars,  he  then  retains  the  name 
only,  but  wants  the  spirit  of  pastoral  poetry. 

He  must,  therefore,  keep  in  the  middle  sta¬ 
tion  between  these.  He  must  form  to  himself 
the  idea  of  a  rural  state,  such  as,  in  certain 
pcrWe  of  society,  may  have  actually  taken 
place,  where  there  was  ease,  equality,  and  in¬ 
nocent.1,  whero  cheni^j.£}s  were  gay  and  agree- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


23£ 

able,  without  being  learned  and  refined;  and 
plain  and  artless  without  being  gross  and 
w  retched.  The  great  charm  of  pastoral  poetry 
arises  from  the  view  which  it  exhibits  of  the 
tranquility  and  happiness  of  a  rural  life.  This 
pleasing, illusion,  therefore,  the  poet  must  care¬ 
fully  maintain.  He  must  display  to  us  all  that 
is  agreeable  in  that  state,  but  hide  whatever  is 
displeasing.  Let  him  paint  its  innocence  and 
simplicity  to  the  full,  but  cover  its  rudeness 
and  misery.  Distresses,  indeed,  and  anxieties, 
he  may  attribute  to  it;  for  it  would  be  perfectly 
unnatural  to  suppose  any  condition  of  human 
life  to  be  without  them;  hut  they  must  be  of 
such  a  nature  as  not  to  shock  the  fancy  with 
any  thing  peculiarly  disgusting  in  the  pastoral 
life.  The  shepherd  may  well  be  afflicted  for 
the  displeasure  of  his  mistress,  or  for  the  loss 
of  a  favorite  lamb.  It  is  a  sufficient  recom¬ 
mendation  of  any  state  to  have  only  such  evils 
as  these  to  deplore.  In  short,  it  is  the  pasto¬ 
ral  life  somewhat  embellished  and  beautified, 
at  least  seen  on  its  fairest  side  only,  that  the 
poet  ought  to  present  to  us.  But  let  him  take 
care,  that  embellishing  nature,  he  do  not  alto¬ 
gether  disguise  her;  or  pretend  to  join  with 
rural  simplicity  and  happiness,  such  improve¬ 
ments  as  are  unnatural  and  foreign  to  it.  If 
it  be  not  exactly  real  life  which  he  presents  to 
us,  it  must,  however,  be  somewhat  (hat  resem¬ 
bles  it.  This  is  the  general  idea  of  pastoral 
poetry. 

In  the  following  beautiful  lines  of  his  first 
Eclogue,  Virgil  has,  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  pas- 


284 


FLOWERS  OF 


assemblage  of  images  of  rural  pleasure,  as  can 
any  where  be  found. 

“ Fortunate  senex!  hie  inter  Jlumina  nota , 

Et frontes  sacros,frigis  captabis  opucum ,  <b'c. 

“Happy  old  man!  here  mid  the  accustom’d  streams, 

And  sacred  springs  you’ll  shun  the  scorching  beams. 

While  from  yon  willow  fence  thy  pasture’s  bound, 

The  bees  that  suck  their  flowery  stores  around. 

Shall  sweetly  mingle  with  the  whisp’ring  boughs, 

Their  lulling  murmurs,  and  invite  repose. 

While  from  steep  rocks,  the  pruner's  song  is  heard; 

Nor  the  soft  cooing  dove,  thy  fav’rite  bird, 

Mean  while  shall  cease  to  breathe  her  melting  strain, 

Nor  turtles  from  the  serial  elms  to  plain.”...  Wharton. 

Theocritus  and  Virgil,  indeed,  are  models  of 
writing  well  in  this  sort  of  poetry.  Theocri¬ 
tus  is  more  sweet,  more  natural,  and  more  de¬ 
scriptive  than  Virgil.  Virgil  on  the  other 
hand,  is  more  judicious,  more  exact,  and  more 
regular.  Theocritus  hath  more  of  all  the 
graces  which  constitute  the  ordinary  beauty  of 
poetry;  Virgil  has  more  of  good  sense,  more 
vigor,  more  nobleness,  more  modesty,  After 
all,  Theocritus  is  the  original,  Virgil  is  only 
the  copy,  though  he  has  copied  many  things 
so  happily,  that  they  equal  the  original  itself. 

“That  which  distinguishes  Theocritus,’’ 
says  Dryden,  “from  all  other  poets  both  Greek 
and  Latin,  and  which  raises  him  even  above 
Virgil  in  his  Eclogues,  is  the  inimitable  ten¬ 
derness  of  his  passions,  and  the  natural  ex¬ 
pressions  of  them  in  words,  so  well  adapted  to 
pastoral  poetry.  A  simplicity  shines  through 
all  he  writes;  he  shews  his  art  and  learning  by 
disguising  both.  His  shepherds  never  rise  above 
their  country  education  in  their  complaints  of 
love.  There  is  the  same  difference  betwixt 
him  and  Virgil,  as  there  is  betwixt  Tasso’s 
Aminta,  and  the  Pastor  Fido  of  Guarini.  Vir¬ 
gil's  shepherds  are  too  well  read  in  the  philo- 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


285 


sophy  of  Epicurus  and  Plato;  and  Guarini’s 
seem  to  have  been  bred  in  courts.  But  Theo¬ 
critus  and  Tasso  have  taken  theirs  from  cotta* 
ges  and  plains.” 

It  was  said  of  Tasso  in  relation  to  his  simili- 
tudes,  that  he  never  departed  from  the  woods; 
that  is,  all  his  comparisons  are  taken  from  the 
country*  The  same  may  be  said  of  Theocri¬ 
tus.  His  descriptions  and  natural  beauties  are 
richer,  and  more  picturesque  than  those  of 
Virgil. 

“What  rural  scenery,”  says  Dr.  Blair,  “can 
he  painted  in  more  lively  colors,  than  the  fol¬ 
lowing  description  exhibits?” 

——————“On  soft  beds  recline 

Of  lentisk,  and  young  branches  of  the  vine: 

Poplars  and  elms  above  their  foliage  spread, 

Lent  a  cool  shade,  and  wav’d  the  breezy  bead? 

Below  a  stream,  from  the  nymph’s  sacred  cave, 

In  free  meanders  led  its  murm’ring  wave : 

In  the  warm  sun-beams,  verdant  shades  among. 

Shrill  grasshopper’s  renew’d  their  plaintive  song; 

At  distance  far,  conceal’d  in  shades  alone, 

Sweet  Philomela  pour’d  her  tuneful  moan: 

The  lark,  the  goldfinch,  warbled  lays  of  love, 

And  sweetly  pensive  coo’d  the  turtle  doye; 

While  honey-bees,  forever  on  the  wing, 

Humm’d  round  the  flow’rs,  or  sipt  the  silver  spring. 

The  rich,  ripe  season,  gratified  the  sense, 

With  summer’s  sweets,  and  autumn’s  redolence. 

Apples  and  pears  lay  strew’d  in  heaps  around, 

And  the  plum’s  loaded  branches  kiss’d  the  ground.”... Fawkes 

CHAP.  CXXIII. 

Of  Seneca , 

SENECA  was  born  at  Corduba,  in  Spain, 
about  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  sera. 
Though  he  was  b£je'ad  to  the  law,  his  genius  led 
him  rather  to  philosophy,  and  he  applied  his 
wit  to  morality  and  virtue.  Notwithstanding 
his  philosophic  studies,  he  was  first  made  ques- 


286 


FLOWERS  OF 


tor,  then  priefor,  and  some  say  that  he  was 
chosen  consul;  but  whether  he  bore  those  ho¬ 
nors  before  or  after  his  banishment  is  uncertain. 

In  the  first  year  of  the  emperor  Claudius,  he 
was  banished  into  Corsica,  when  Julia,  the 
daughter  of  Germanicus,  was  accused  by  Mes- 
salina  of  adultery;  Seneca  being  charged  as  one 
of  the  adulterers.  But  Messalina  dying,  and 
Agrippina  being  married  to  Claudius,  she  pre¬ 
vailed  upon  the  emperor  to  recai  Seneca,  after 
he  had  lived  in  exile  about  eight  years.  She 
afterwards  recommended  him  as  tutor  to  her 
son  Nero.  Had  that  prince  attended  to  the 
wisdom  of  his  preceptor,  through  the  course  of 
his  reign,  as  much  as  he  did  for  the  first  five 
years  of  it,  he  would  have  been  the  delight  in¬ 
stead  of  the  detestation  of  mankind. 

Nero  condemned  Seneca  to  die,  under  pre¬ 
tence  that  he  had  conspired  with  Piso,  to  de¬ 
prive  him  of  the  government.  The  manner  of 
his  death  is  particularly  related  by  Tacitus. 
“Now  follows,”  says  he,  “the  death  of  Seneca, 
to  Nero’s  great  satisfaction;  not  because  it  ap¬ 
peared  that  he  was  of  Piso’s  conspiracy,  but 
because  Nero  was  resolved  to  do  that  by  the 
sword,  which  he  could  not  effect  by  poison;  for 
it  is  reported  that  Nero  had  bribed  Cleonicus, 
Seneca’s  freed  man,  to  give  bis  master  poison, 
which  did  not  succeed;  for  his  diet  was  very 
simple.  He  lived  chiefly  upon  vegetables,  and 
seldom  drank  any  thing  but  water. 

“Natalis  was  sent  upon  a  visit  to  him  with 
a  complaint,  that  he  would  not  permit  Piso  to 
visit  him.  To  whom  Seneca  answered,  that 
frequent  meetings  and  conferences  between 


ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


287 


them  could  do  neither  of  them  any  good,  but 
that  he  had  a  great  interest  in  Piso’s  welfare. 
Upon  this  Granius  Silvanus,  a  captain  of  the 
guard,  was  sent  to  examine  Seneca  upon  the 
discourse  which  had  passed  between  him  and 
Natalis,  and  to  return  his  answer.  He  found  , 
Seneca  at  supper  with  his  wife,  Paulina,  and 
iwo  of  his  friends,  and  immediately  gave  him 
an  account  of  his  commission.  Seneca  told 
him  that  it  was  true,  that  Natalis  had  been  with 
him  in  Piso’s  name,  with  a  complaint  that  Piso 
could  not  be  admitted  to  see  him,  and  that  he 
excused  himself  by  reason  of  his  want  of  health. 

“This  answer  of  Seneca  was  delivered  to 
Csesar  in  the  presence  of  Poppsea  and  Tigeili- 
nus,  the  intimate  confidants  of  this  barbarous 
prince;  and  Nero  asked  him,  whether  he  could 
gather  any  thing  from  Seneca,  as  if  he  intend¬ 
ed  to  kill  himself?  The  tribune’s  answer  was, 
that  he  did  not  find  him  at  all  affected  with  the 
message,  nor  so  much  as  change  countenance 
upon  it.  Go  back  to  him  then,  says  Nero,  and 
tell  him  that  he  is  condemned  to  die;  but  that 
the  manner  of  his  death  is  left  to  his  own  choice. 
$eneca  received  the  message  without  surprise 
or  disorder,  and  chose  to  die  by  having  bis 
veins  opened  in  a  warm  bath. 

the  d^y  of  his  death,  seeing  his  friends 
^ery  much  affected,  he  said  to  them:  Where 
is  ali  your  philosophy  now?  where  is  all  your 
premeditated  resolutions  against  weakness  of 
behavior?  Is  there  any  man  so  ignorant  of 
Nero’s  cruelty,  as  to  expect,  after  the  murder 
M  his  another,  and  his  brother,  that  he  should 
spare*  the  life  of  his  tutor? 


288 


FLOWERS  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY. 


“After  some  general  expressions  to  this  pur¬ 
pose,  lie  took  his  wife  in  his  arms,  and  having 
somewhat  fortified  her  against  the  present  ca¬ 
lamity,  he  besought  and  conjured  her  to  mo¬ 
derate  her  sorrows,  and  betake  herself  to  the 
contemplation  and  comforts  of  a  virtuous  life, 
which  would  be  ample  compensation  to  her  for 
the  loss  of  her  husband.  Paulina,  on  the  other 
hand,  said  she  was  determined  to  bear  him 
company,  and  ordered  the  executioner  to  do  his 
office. 

“Accordingly,  the  veins  of  both  their  arms 
were  opened  at  the  same  time.  But  after  Pau¬ 
lina  had  bled  for  a  considerable  time,  Nero 
gave  orders  to  prevent  her  death,  for  fear  his 
cruelty  should  grow  more  insupportable  and 
odious.  Whereupon  the  soldiers  gave  all  free¬ 
dom  and  encouragement  to  her  servants  to  bind 
up  her  wounds,  and  to  stop  the  blood;  but  whe¬ 
ther  at  the  time  they  were  doing  it,  she  was 
sensible  of  it,  is  a  question.  She  survived  her 
husband  for  some  years,  with  all  respect  to  his 
memory;  but*so  miserably  pale  and  wan,  that 
every  body  might  read  the  loss  of  her  blood 
and  spirits  ifr  her  very  countenance.” 

Seneca  was  an  excellent  moralist,  and  a 
sound  philosopher;  but  he  does  not  make  so 
considerable  a  figure  as  a  poefe?  and  a  writer  of 
tragedies.  His  sentiments,  indeed,  are^sublime^ 
and  his  images  lively  and  poetical;  but  both  the 
fable  and  execution  of  his  plays  are  irregular. 
He  wants  that  noble  simplicity,  and  pathetic 
manner  which  recommended  Euripides;  and  he 
seems  to  have  written  more  for  the  use  /)f  the 
closet,  than  of  the  stage- 


'  *  m  \  v>  ^ 

'  A  :•  \> 


\ 


\ 


V 


L 


K  ■* 


%  N 

'•  '••  •*  ’  •  v  \  v 

%y*  "N'A'a* 

vwuw  *..i  kT' 

^wjmnnc  ^  t  J. , 

\\  J*  ***  *•  *  . 

^  ^  -  'v'V  v*  •  * VV  »  % 


Gt 


it 
« 


C**M|U4V, 


c 


«4WTt.uv 


jr 


iinc* 

tied 

4  b’ 

der 


noyypief}0 


f 

. 


-rfrviwrrnn 


<Tj:.v.  v. -v.  •••*«••  a 


s*nu*<* 


^4/mi^ 


2«*i 


i 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 
AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

D59 

.A21 

1817 


